


Us And The World

by ntheonlycha



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:50:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 48,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13430223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ntheonlycha/pseuds/ntheonlycha
Summary: Originally posted on Tumblr:Part 1: 11/18/15Part 2: 01/03/16{“Taekwoon is broken like Wonsik was. Or maybe Wonsik helped break him. Maybe they’re broken together. He has never been like this before Wonsik started leaning on him for support and now he doesn’t know how to get back.”}





	1. Chapter 1

“When are you going to get married?” Hongbin asks casually, his smile genuine, as he looks off to the side where Taekwoon’s girlfriend, Eunha, has a bag of her shoes sitting against the closet door. “Looks like she’s already moving in.”

Taekwoon’s face remains blank as he looks up from skinning an apple in the open kitchen, the sharp knife pressing gently against the pad of his thumb as he stops. “She’s not moving in,” he says, even though he often wishes she would. “She brought those over only yesterday.”

Hongbin bounces over to the opposite side of the counter, eyeing Taekwoon until he offers the younger man a slice. He bites it out of Taekwoon’s hand, somehow managing to chew the fruit softly, and follows up with, “Do you have a ring for her?”

“I have no plans for marriage right now, Hongbin.” Taekwoon takes a single slice for himself and pushes the bowl towards Hongbin. It’s meant for him to begin with, anyway. Feeding Hongbin is always part of the plan whenever he visits—which is often these days. He hears the younger munching quietly as he tosses the skin in the trash and runs the blade under the tap.

“But remember Hakyeon hyung’s wedding?” Hongbin starts in an airy tone. “Ah, it was beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Hakyeon had a spectacular wedding earlier in the year. He got married to a woman just as crazy about him as he’s crazy about her. Taekwoon nearly lost himself in tears when he attended. He couldn’t have been happier for Hakyeon—he has only ever wished the best for him. But it was a changing point for Taekwoon, though. He danced with Eunha, holding her close as the DJ Hakyeon hired blasted classic wedding songs and throwbacks that put everyone in a good mood. She leaned up on his chest, pushing against his back with her hand, and whispered, “Let’s do this at our wedding, too.” He nodded carefully as she beamed, bright and beautiful, laughing, and embodying all the emotions the setting had been perfectly planned to do.

“Jaehwan broke up with Seyoung last week so there goes all hope with him being next,” the younger sighs out sadly.

“Did you really think they were going to make it?” Taekwoon questions, as if their breakup wasn’t already obvious and inevitable. They had so many issues Taekwoon didn’t know where to begin when Jaehwan would call him and complain about her.

“No, but I had some hope,” he shrugs with his usual smile. “Wonsik’s a disaster and Sanghyuk is gone for the time being… You’re the only one left.”

Taekwoon leans against the counter again, directly opposing Hongbin, and he furrows his brows out of irritation for how insistent the younger is with keeping this conversation about him. “Why don’t you get married?”

“To?” He laughs, staring Taekwoon right in the eye, and the glint he sends evokes a familiar instinct to want to punch him. Taekwoon represses it as always, though. “You know I’m not dating anyone!”

“Yeah, and you can change that in two seconds. You step outside and a hundred girls are at your feet.”

His eyes roll obnoxiously. “You’re exaggerating.”

“How many followed you here?”

“I don’t know!” Hongbin spits out, laughter fluttery within his voice. “Maybe five? But they dispersed once I pulled into the garage. I have nice fans.” He’s getting smug at this point.

“Marry one.”

The smirk on Hongbin’s face is enough to put an end to the entire conversation. He finishes the apple quickly once they stop talking and Taekwoon cleans up to the tune of their silence—one they are both very used to.

Of the Vixx members, he’s in contact with Hongbin the most now in days. He visits at least once a week and Taekwoon never turns him away. The younger man knows exactly what to say in order to get Taekwoon to go out with him.

He’s thirty-three years old now anyway. Vixx’s group activities stopped when he and Hakyeon enlisted in the army simultaneously. The remaining members did the same through the following years. Sanghyuk still has a year and a half to go, but he’s the last one. Hakyeon dreams of them getting back together once his years are over, but Taekwoon doesn’t see that happening anytime soon. Especially now that Hongbin’s seemingly much more successful than Vixx ever was and Jaehwan travels a lot for musicals and special performances he does. Not to mention Hakyeon has plans to start a family soon.

He knows Wonsik still works as a producer for Jellyfish Entertainment, but they don’t speak much. The last time he saw Wonsik was at Hakyeon’s wedding with his South American girlfriend of four months named Gabriella. He’s not even sure if they are still together. They didn’t seem too close at the wedding, but he’s never really been informed about their relationship to begin with. Hongbin doesn’t seem to know much either.

Hongbin started showing up at Taekwoon’s doorstep with bottles of wine and other alcohol much more often once Sanghyuk left. He’s the busiest out of all of them, and yet he always finds time to visit. Taekwoon often wonders why Hongbin would rather sit on his couch and pet his cat instead of going out and dating, but he doesn’t ask because in the back of his mind, he really already knows. He assumes Hongbin’s just lonely; times might have changed, but Hongbin is still the same Hongbin he’s always been.

When Taekwoon was twenty-nine, right before enlisting, Hakyeon pulled him aside with a stupidly happy grin across his face. He insisted on Taekwoon meeting this girl, one that worked for a broadcasting station they were at weekly. So he hesitantly went and introduced himself to a small woman named Eunha. She was just twenty-seven at the time and, with shaky hands and a slightly awkward smile, she asked him out for coffee.

They’ve been together ever since. When he completed his military service, they came out as a couple and she gained national popularity quickly. They have done multiple photoshoots together, advertisements, and she’s started a new career based on all the acting offers she’s gotten since. It’s almost crazy to Taekwoon how fast everything has changed.

He still sings, but only for OSTs he’s requested for or for special performances that take place a few times a year. Usually he models and he gets promotional proposals so often that he just has his manager sift through and pick the best ones for him to go with. And every couple weeks he guests on some sort of sporting show.

His home is a condo just outside of Seoul. He didn’t want to be too far from his work or family, but at the same time not too close to the more populated districts. It’s a one bedroom, small, but the perfect size for him and his cat. Originally he wanted a dog, but wasn’t sure if he could give it the proper attention it needed, so he got a tabby cat instead, which Jaehwan jokingly named ‘Todd Cat.’ And it stuck despite Taekwoon’s many objections.

Today, Hongbin pours two glasses of champagne even though they don’t have anything to celebrate. Their glasses clink and Taekwoon watches Hongbin’s eyes flutter shut as he gulps down much more than he probably should that quickly. He doesn’t get too worried, though. Hongbin’s always been good with his alcohol. He just looks sad.

They drink quietly on Taekwoon’s large black couch with the television playing as background noise and Todd Cat curled up on the warm floor by Hongbin’s feet.

“Is Eunha coming tonight?” Hongbin asks quietly, reaching over the coffee table to pour himself another glass.

Taekwoon shifts to pull his phone from his pocket, checking quickly for any updates. “I don’t know.”

“Can I stay if she doesn’t?” He asks, leaning his cheek tiredly on the back cushion.

Taekwoon sighs, as if they haven’t been over this at least fifty times prior. “You know you can stay even if she does.”

“But it’s weird for me,” he gawks and it causes Taekwoon to laugh. “What if you two do ‘things’?”

“We won’t if you’re here. That would be weird for _me_.”

Hongbin smiles lightly against the cushion.  

 

He’s completely drunk within the hour. Taekwoon prepares him a pillow, an old blanket, and a water glass. There’s a trash can he pulls to the side of the couch in case Hongbin gets sick, but he never does. Taekwoon puts on some soft music and heads back into the kitchen to quickly cook up some food for whenever Hongbin wakes up during the night and leaves. This has all become a pattern Taekwoon’s not sure is a good one, but one he’s become used to. Hongbin’s easy to take care of and he has garnered a lot of experience caring for drunken people from their Vixx days. Wonsik was always much worse.

Times like these make him think about Wonsik. They used to be close in ways only the two of them knew, and just like how he’s not sure if Hongbin’s current habits are good, he never knew if Wonsik’s were either. He’s thought maybe he wasn’t as good at taking care of them as he wanted to be. Sometimes he feels like he aids rather than helps. Hongbin reminds him slightly of how Wonsik once was. Sad, lonely, putting on the fakest mask he’s ever seen just to get by. He often wonders if Wonsik still acts the way he used to, if someone takes care of him like Taekwoon once did, or if he loses himself completely. Out of all the members, Wonsik was the one who separated himself the most.

Hakyeon’s wedding was the first time he’s seen Wonsik in nearly a year. He appeared thinner than Taekwoon remembered, but not sickly, and maybe just with withered muscle masses. They spoke, but nothing past small talk. Wonsik seemed so far away and distant that something within Taekwoon wanted to pull him into a tight embrace, like in the past he would do when the younger appeared just as sad, and hold him for a bit. He didn’t, though, not with Gabriella clutching his arm, looking just as lost and confused as any foreigner would be at a Korean wedding. She only spoke English with Wonsik, and Taekwoon couldn’t understand any of it as it seemed it wasn’t her first language either. Eunha was standing at his side, fingers interlaced, and smiling prettily. Simply speaking with Wonsik was his only option at the time. He suggested they meet up at some point for dinner, and Wonsik’s lips curved gently, but he has never called to make it happen.

Not even Hongbin knows what currently goes on in Wonsik’s world. Newer artists and groups sing songs he produces, and they do quite well, so no one is too concerned. Taekwoon just wishes he’d call more; he wishes he would pick up the phone more.

 

He puts a note on the coffee table saying there’s food in the fridge. Hongbin’s never around when he wakes up, anyway, but he likes to do something for him when he has the chance. The younger man is wrapped up comfortably in the old blue blanket Taekwoon’s mother gave him years ago, long before Vixx was a thing, and he looks peaceful. His face is flushed from the alcohol, yet soft looking and relaxed. He shuts off the music and the television so Hongbin can be undisturbed and heads to bed himself.

Eunha never did visit that night. Taekwoon only wakes up to a text from Hongbin saying, ‘Thank you. I really mean it.’ and a clean living room, as if Hongbin was never even there to begin with. He even washed, dried, and put his water glass back in the cabinet.

 

 

Three nights later, Taekwoon stands in his doorway tiredly, arms crossed, as he hears the beeping sound of his door lock being successfully entered. Hongbin’s smile is refreshing and contagious. He enters with a laugh, yelling at Todd Cat from across the room, and walking in like it’s basically his own home.

“Hyung, I thought you might be sleeping.”

“Clearly,” Taekwoon sighs, dropping his ‘I’m irritated’ façade. Not like Hongbin ever buys it anyway.

“Want to go out?” He asks while stepping out of his shoes and walking past Taekwoon towards the kitchen. “I know this bar we can go to. It will be quiet, I promise.”

Taekwoon follows slowly, gently thinking of a way to let the younger man down. He’s not going out tonight. He rarely enjoys going to bars anymore. Hongbin knows that. He’s been there in the past when Taekwoon’s lashed out about how much he can’t handle clubs and bars these days. Just thinking about those times makes him feel strong emotions from the past that still resonate deep within. 

“Not tonight, Bin ah,” he goes with, staring precisely at Hongbin’s face as the words register with him. His smile disappears momentarily. “Eunha’s coming over later and we have dinner plans.”

The younger man turns, opening the refrigerator door only to close it again after another moment. He pauses and Taekwoon knows he’s thinking. “I can’t tomorrow. I have this—shoot—thing. Ah, okay.” Another pause. “Saturday I’m going to the studio for a little. I need to meet with some of the managers and higher staff, but if you come with we can go out right after. You know, like old times? The chicken place down the street from the studio is still open. When was the last time we’ve had that?” He gazes back towards Taekwoon with a light smile, “I really shouldn’t be eating that, but I do a lot of things I shouldn’t be doing anyway.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he gives in easily, like always.

Hongbin’s eyes curve happily and he appears so young and cute that Taekwoon can never regret anything when Hongbin gives him that look.

“And maybe we can drag Wonsik out of his cave and have him come with us. I bet he hasn’t seen the light of day in over a week.”

Oh, right. Wonsik will most likely be working at the studio. That sparks Taekwoon’s interest more than the thought of simply reminiscing over chicken.

 

 

There’s a flash and his eyes shut. Eunha glows, teeth showing, and hand waving to the fan who took a picture of her on his phone. She’s good to her fans, her newer fans, Taekwoon supposes. She’s not sick of all of them yet. Well, not all, but _those_ kinds. It all makes Taekwoon want to go home, to drink even, to lift Eunha and take her far, far away from the life he’s long lived. She’s too sweet, too nice for any of this, and yet she smiles at him as if a fan taking their picture at a quiet restaurant on a normal Tuesday evening is a fascinating thing.

They arrive home and Taekwoon feels exhausted from it all.

“Hey, you,” Eunha’s voice is light against his ears. “I told you I don’t want you to watch my new drama. I’m ugly in it.”

“You’re not ugly.”

“Just please don’t!” She’s leaning over him forcibly, laughing, yet still making her words stern.

Taekwoon shuts the television off just as the introduction starts. Eunha’s in a good mood tonight and he doesn’t want to be the one to make her lose that. She’s always out late, always so tired whenever she comes home. It makes Taekwoon upset because he already knows how fame and celebrity life changes people, how it drains them, how miserable they can truly become, and it’s something he has never wished for anyone. Eunha handles it well, he thinks. She leans in his arms, lax and fragile, and he holds her as strongly as he can without breaking her.

Eunha is much busier than he is. She has more schedules than ever and Taekwoon doesn’t really know how to digest it all. Originally he really liked the idea of dating someone outside of the industry. He’s always thankful she hasn’t lost herself to the game yet—she still has her charm of normalcy and uniqueness that first attracted him towards her. But Taekwoon’s always afraid it might slip, that she’ll lose it just like many others and become generic, lives’ mundane, and repetitive with schedules and lies.

They have a good relationship that he doesn’t take for granted. He loves her, truly, and has enjoyed so many moments with her. It’s been hard though, with her career taking off when his is winding down for the time being, and their time together constantly shrinking. It’s almost like he sees Hongbin more than he sees her these days. She’ll come home and they’ll lie in bed and talk until she falls asleep. Unlike Hongbin, though, he sees her in the morning—at least for a little bit.

She feels so little within his arms. Her perfume is extra strong today, but he likes it. His lips press against hers and it burns; it feels good as her long hair brushes against his neck. Her fingers are soft against his jaw, and when she pulls back, eyes batting open, he gazes at her until her smile disappears.

It’s fast, his hands grip her waist, and she yelps, “Ah—Taekwoon!” because he lifts her up and she rings her arms around his neck to stay secure. Taekwoon walks with her clinging to him, hoping maybe, just maybe tonight—and he’s almost there, but he comes to a halt when she stops laughing and it’s so quiet he doesn’t even hear her breath or the pitter patter of the cat’s claws against the floor. Her tone is soft and apologetic as she buries her face into this neck, “Taek… not tonight.”

 

 

As bright and bubbly as Hongbin usually is, Taekwoon drives the two of them back into the city. Hongbin knocks out within fifteen minutes and it comes to no surprise to Taekwoon when he catches the younger leaning towards the car door, directly across from where the heat blasts from off the side of the dashboard. He knew this was what Hongbin meant when he dangled his keys from his pinky finger and asked, “Want to drive?”

The route isn’t long, but it’s quiet for a while until they go through the busier districts. Hongbin’s car is much fancier and more expensive than the one he has and there’s this pinging of anxiety in the back of his mind from all the stares he gets when driving it. He pulls into the back lot of the building and shuts the car off. His eyes gaze helplessly at the setting sun momentarily before shifting to Hongbin. Taekwoon considers waiting another ten minutes, but he knows Hongbin will throw a fit if he figures out they wasted time. So he shakes the younger’s shoulder gently and Hongbin blinks back to life.

Taekwoon thinks the place looks exactly the same, but Hongbin swears it’s different since they repainted a few years back. There’s a group of five young boys practicing in the main dance room and Hongbin has to pull him away from aimlessly staring. He doesn’t recognize a single one of them.

“His office is this way now,” Hongbin says as he leads them down a different hall. “He finally got a bigger one, but hey, he deserves it for all he does. He practically lives here now. Whenever I see him his dark circles are down to here!” He turns around, walking backwards while placing his fingers halfway down his face as representation. And Taekwoon laughs, dropping his head while Hongbin walks forward again, and bites softly at his lower lip. He’s excited to see Wonsik—more than he thought he was going to be, but his heart is beating quickly and he feels slightly nervous as they approach the door Hongbin claims leads to Wonsik’s office. Hongbin knocks loudly and Taekwoon flinches from the echoing noise.

“Yah, Wonsik, it’s me.” He turns the door knob and they are welcomed by a dark room, quiet, with only the sound of humming electronics resonating throughout. “Oh.”

“Ah,” Taekwoon releases a breath, feeling disappointed and somewhat relieved at the same time.

“Well this sucks,” Hongbin flicks on the light as they slowly step within the room. Taekwoon doesn’t say anything because he only agrees. It’s his first time seeing Wonsik’s new work room and he’s surprised by how much is in there. There’s an unfamiliar scent within the room that he cannot connect with any past memories; clean with a slight hint of cigarette smoke, and it confuses Taekwoon because neither of those have ever resembled Wonsik.

“Does…” he begins slowly, “Does Wonsik smoke now?”

“I smell it, too,” Hongbin replies without answering the question. He must not know either.

Taekwoon’s frowning now and Hongbin laughs when he points to the corner of his desk where a frame with four pictures of Hakyeon sits. There are many other pictures and Taekwoon focuses on a few older Vixx group shots. They seem so long ago. There’s one with the six of them crowding together after a concert that Taekwoon can’t blink away from. Wonsik’s smiling in it. Hongbin is too.

“I’ll call him,” Hongbin announces while reaching into his coat pocket.

Taekwoon looks around at Wonsik’s computers and knickknacks. At least those still resemble the old him: Cute toys and silly doodles, rap albums on his back shelf, and empty snack bags filling his garbage can.

“Um, hey, Wonsik, it’s Hongbin. Taekwoon hyung and I are at the studio right now. We’re going out after for chicken if you want to come and meet us. Let me know if you want to and we’ll wait for you or order for you if you’re going to be late or something, okay? Bye.”

“He didn’t answer?” Taekwoon figures. Hongbin just looks sad again.

 

Hongbin goes to meet with the staff like he originally intended to, leaving Taekwoon alone in the basement with the younger boys he saw earlier. He watches them for another minute through the small window on the door, thinking about how much they were resembling what Vixx used to go through, but once one of them notices, he backs away.

“Taekwoon sunbaenim!”

He stops within the hall and waves awkwardly at the boy who could not have been older than eighteen years old. Four other heads pop out from the doorway behind him. “Hello,” he finally responds in acknowledgement.

“I’m—I’m a really big fan… I’ve never seen you here before, but, ah…” The boy’s nervousness spreads to Taekwoon the longer he continues. “I really admire you.”

The boy looks as if he’s about to faint and Taekwoon grows concerned. His gaze travels to the other boys behind him and they all appear huddled together, sweaty from practice, with wide eyes. He has never been in this sort of situation before.

“I came here with Hongbin earlier… I’m waiting for him.” He says as the five set of eyes stare at him. “But, ah, thank you.”

Somehow he gets sucked into following them back into the practice room. They are only trainees, but some of them appear good enough to debut already. They look at him with star-struck eyes and anxious smiles and Taekwoon just hopes they know what they’re getting themselves into. The youngest, only fifteen years old, looks fragile, and it’s upsetting. But Taekwoon sits as they try to impress him, which they do. The one that first approached him sings wonderfully—much better than Taekwoon was at that age—and he smiles at their passion. He can’t help but compare. He can’t help but wonder which would be the first to crack, but he stops himself in hopes things must be different now. Never would he wish the hardships Vixx went through on others.

“Wonsik hyung was here earlier,” one says during a small break and Taekwoon jumps slightly at that.

“You’re close to him?” He asks, a bit surprised when they referred to him in such a familiar tone.

“Yeah, he works with us all the time,” he follows with as he pauses to sip a water bottle they pass around. “He’s working on our debut song, but who knows when that will happen. It sounds really good so far.”

Taekwoon smiles a little, watching the boys sit against the mirror opposing his seat. “I’ll look forward to listening to it.”

The trainees go back to practicing the same dance moves over and over again until one walks out due to exhaustion. The remaining boys do stop for a few seconds before the four continue on like they have no plans of breaking for the remainder of the night. The whole scene brings back memories Taekwoon doesn’t want to revisit. He can already feel himself getting emotionally invested in these boys and it hurts. They are too young and innocent. They are just like Eunha. Just like how his members once were. And he can’t handle it anymore.

So he says his goodbyes and takes the stairs back to the main floor. It’s already been an hour and he can’t stop staring at the clock on the wall, eagerly waiting for Hongbin to finish his meeting so they can go out. Go out and not look back.

 

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t expect that to take so long!” Hongbin rushes out to him with three staff members desperately trying to keep his attention behind him. “What’s wrong?” He stops.

“Hongbin, we need you in the other room—”

“Please, one moment. Just give me one minute,” his voice is stern and demanding to the staff, yet still somehow has a polite flair to it. They back off, nodding a small ‘okay,’ all while looking just as irritated as Hongbin does. He focuses back to Taekwoon, face softening, and lips pressed together. “Why do you have that look on your face?”

“I want to leave,” he whispers and Hongbin nods understandingly, glancing back at the staff members standing annoyingly close despite Hongbin’s wishes.

“I will be right back and then we can get the hell out of here, okay?” He hands Taekwoon his keys again. “Go warm up the car. I’ll be right there.” And he turns around, following the people back into an office and shutting the door behind him.

 

The weather isn’t that cold out, but there’s a chill within the car that doesn’t shake away even when the heat blasts. He takes deep breaths while lowering his forehead against the steering wheel. His entire body feels jittery and off, like so much is wrong and worrisome that he doesn’t even know where to start to fix things. The urge to go home is so strong that he puts the car in reverse, inching it back slowly, making him feel like he’s at least getting a little bit closer. But he presses on the brakes once Hongbin’s form emerges from the back door. His feet stomp quickly and he slides in so smoothly that Taekwoon hits the gas just as the door shuts.

“What the hell did I miss?” He asks, fidgeting around with his seatbelt as Taekwoon takes a sharp turn out of the lot.

“I’ll tell you later,” Taekwoon sighs, finally feeling slightly better as he focuses on driving. “Let’s just go eat.”

“Okay!” Hongbin cheers with a grin while settling in his seat.

 

“Hey, hey! Hyung stop, you’re driving!” Hongbin hits his shoulder while pulling his second beer out of Taekwoon’s grasp. He finally got caught after stealing his third large sip when the younger wasn’t looking. He wants to say ‘but it’s just beer… I’ll be fine,’ but he remains quiet. Hongbin was going on and on about the meeting he was just in anyway. The company wants him to take a role in an upcoming film that’s supposed to be huge, but he keeps refusing. The filming is during a vacation he has planned for late next year with his family and he’s been looking forward to it for months now. The staff is furious.

“—so I told them to just give the role to someone else and they threw a temper tantrum. It was like sitting in a room with a bunch of wild apes.” He laughs a little, but his smile doesn’t last long. He takes a big sip from his glass before reaching for a piece of chicken.

The food is just as good as he remembers. The working staff is all different, all younger students who flipped when Hongbin walked through the door, but thankfully aren’t treating them much differently. The interior has been redone, now brighter and more colorful, and Taekwoon thinks it’s too different to relate memories back to—and he’s so thankful for that. He winds down just listening to Hongbin’s story and eating slowly.

“Anyway, Wonsik never called me back. Figures, right?” Taekwoon nods while chewing. He’s disappointed and Hongbin has a moment reflecting the same emotion. “It’s been over a month since I’ve last seen him.”

It’s been much longer for Taekwoon.

Hongbin stares at him, their eyes holding contact for a good few moments, and Taekwoon knows the younger is trying to read him. He looks away, slightly disgruntled, and finally asks, “What happened earlier?”

Taekwoon puts his water glass down against the table and takes in a large breath. “I got caught up by the trainees… And they are so young and passionate.”

Hongbin nods silently and glances away when he notices where the conversation is heading.

“They don’t know what they’re doing. They don’t know what they think their life is going to be. It made me nervous. One of them was really small…”

“I know,” Hongbin says quietly. “I just like to think that maybe times have changed and maybe things will be better for them.” There’s a short pause between them and the muffled chatter from other diners and ice clinking against glasses becomes more noticeable. “I mean, I hope the managers have learned. No one can be worse than we were.”

They glance at one another and Hongbin beams into a laugh. “We were awful,” Taekwoon agrees, smiling back just a little bit.

It was very true. They went out a lot, like _a lot_ for idols, but it was mainly because no one knew. And even when they did get caught, the company couldn’t do anything about it. They couldn’t remove any of the members because they were all worth too much and Hongbin once spent an entire night going sentence by sentence through their contracts looking for loopholes and ways to outsmart the staff if anything were to arise.

Taekwoon never really cared for going out and drinking, but it was something to do back then that wasn’t practicing or working. Hongbin and Wonsik started a trend of running away and sneaking out at night. They went to bars and clubs for hours, danced, socialized, and drank like they were stupid college students with normal lives and normal jobs. They would take turns, tricking their managers, quietly stepping out, running through the streets like they were finally free, finally normal.

The late nights were always the most fun. The moon shined as bright as their smiles, feet pounding the pavement as loud as their yelling and laughter, and some of those moments are of Taekwoon’s best memories. The escapes were always so well thought out and planned, with adrenaline rushing through them like a drug, as they hid within the hundreds of bodies at the clubs. In the beginning, Hongbin and Wonsik would run off like they were on top of the world. Taekwoon’s not really sure all they did, but they always came back drunk and giggly with stories they’d never share. They would lose Jaehwan and find him aimlessly wandering the streets hours later and he would yell back to the group like nothing in the universe was wrong. Sanghyuk turned into the life of the party at the clubs; there were always a large number of people playing games with him, screaming, and dancing together. He’s never seen Sanghyuk so happy in his life. Taekwoon and Hakyeon remained quiet at the bar, silently staring past the bartender and thinking about anything and everything imaginable.

He didn’t like wearing hats. They always messed up his hair in ways he could never fix afterwards, but with brightly dyed hair, he made the sacrifice for a few hours. They didn’t get recognized much at all for the first year or two after debut because they blended in. And he would drink slowly while thinking about how it was possible that contortionists don’t physically break in half or how squirrels actually find their food they hid for the winter when they’re hibernating. Like, what was the point in all the effort if they forget where they buried it with all the snow around? He and Hongbin would discuss such topics while the nights just flew by. But he always made sure to keep an eye on Wonsik from across the floor.

Very few times were they all out together, but everyone went out one or two times a week. They had to stop one another from falling asleep during the mornings or schedules—as well as not go on a broadcast looking like they puked all morning from a horrible hangover. Most of the members found their limits fairly quickly, but Wonsik always struggled. He often drank too much, got sick too much, passed out during schedules more than anyone else, and the staff were getting ready to have a 24/7 watch over the members because of it—thankfully Hongbin found contracted loopholes around that, though.

Taekwoon tried to help him, and he did, with ways he never expected or imagined. In the beginning, Taekwoon witnessed Hongbin dragging Wonsik back through the dorm door, and he was so wasted he barely responded to anything, just mumbling and fumbling against the younger’s side. Hongbin was absolutely horrified, but Taekwoon finally talked him into going to bed, telling him that he’ll watch Wonsik, that he’ll do whatever he needs to do to help.

Wonsik cried a lot. He was suffering so much that he drank as a way to let loose, to feel free and young, to escape, and it was too much. He sobbed in pain while puking everything out, gagging and coughing while Taekwoon sat on the edge of the tub, placing a hand on his back to remind him he wasn’t alone. Wonsik held onto Taekwoon tightly after throwing up all the toxins that turned him into someone else. It was an immediate change. They moved back into the living room to lie on the warm floor, spreading their limbs, yet staying close, and Wonsik talked. He told Taekwoon about his fears, about his sadness, about how he hates what he has become and doesn’t know how to stop. It was loneliness, mainly. Idol life took him away from his friends and family, from socializing, from dating, from living like Wonsik wanted to. And it made sense to Taekwoon because he was right there with him, he understood every word, every strain in his voice, and every tear he shed that night.

They weren’t even that popular at the time, they hadn’t won anything, but they still wanted to. They wanted to succeed in hopes things would pay off in the end. Taekwoon wondered if it was how students thought about college. Like they work hard now to live easy later, but with their lives, there was no certainty. They all just wanted to be happy and do what they love, and the longer they were living the life as an idol, the harder it was becoming to escape.

Wonsik apologized, but Taekwoon told him not to. Not to him at least, but maybe to Hongbin for scaring him. And he promised Wonsik he and the other members would always be there for him. Because in that life, they were all they had.

 

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Hongbin tiredly asks in the car on their way back.

“Yeah.”

The few beers Hongbin drank have only made him visibly sleepy. He curls up on Taekwoon’s couch, with the old blue blanket, and passes out within minutes.

Taekwoon decides to stay with him for a little bit. It isn’t that late, not even midnight, but he sits on his chair opposing the couch, thinking he can fall asleep right there, too. And his eyes shut after a few minutes.

 

“Taekwoon?”

He blinks to Eunha leaning in towards him, outstretching an arm his way, and Hongbin rolled over in the opposite direction from when he had first fallen asleep.

“Hm?” He rests his cheek within her hand. The softness feels pleasant against his skin.

“Is he okay?” She asks, looking over her shoulder towards Hongbin. The answer is really always ‘no,’ but he nods ‘yes’ anyway. She knows Hongbin’s story, he’s told her how unhappy he truly is, how his trust issues turn so many away, and how his smiles fool the nation.

“Come to bed with me?” She asks through a gentle smile and curved eyes.

 

Taekwoon lies in bed while waiting for Eunha to finish up in the bathroom. He feels exhaustion in every muscle—exhaustion that hasn’t been caused by physical activity. She closes the door softly behind her. Her face is pretty and natural, hair down and wavy against her collars, and her t-shirt and shorts are all she ever needs to look beautiful in his eyes.

“Did something happen with Hongbin?” She asks quietly, curiously.

“We’re just tired,” he responds with eyes following the way she sits beside him. He isn’t lying, but she really doesn’t need to listen to him explain this one. Not with words at least.

So he brings his arm around her neck, drawing her in closer and closer until their lips meet, and they kiss slowly for a little. It’s nice, calming, and she holds onto his arm while leaning over him. They pick up the pace, their kisses getting slightly more heated, but Taekwoon doesn’t want to go that far tonight—not that Eunha will want to anyway. She pulls back, leaning their foreheads together as their stare into each other’s hazy eyes. Eunha’s the first to break, sitting up slightly to rearrange herself above, sitting on him like she weighs nothing, like she’s not even there.

Taekwoon needs to feel her, though. She’s watching him closely as he pulls at the bottom hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head. Her lips part as if she’s going to say something, her features momentarily sad and Taekwoon knows exactly what she’s thinking. But he can’t stop himself this time—

“Touch me,” he says softly, almost pleading out of desire and need.

And she freezes for a second, confusion written all over her expression. Her hands move quickly to the draw strings of his pants, as if she’s trying to make up for the lost time she spent gaping. Taekwoon lolls his head back, letting her start what she thinks he wants when that’s not what his words meant at all. Not now, at least; not when Hongbin is just in the next room. So lightly, he takes hold of her wrists, pulling them closer his way. He places her palms against his collar, slowly moving them down, letting her warmth sink deep into his skin. It feels good, her hands are smooth against him, and his eyes shut from it all. He guides her hands back up, almost wishing she’d angle her nails down more or add pressure to her touch, almost wishing her hands would cover him a little more. His fingers release her wrists lightly in hopes she’ll continue, that she understands now, but she doesn’t. She takes no time drawing her arms back, easily slipping a few digits back down the elastic of his briefs.

He means to groan, but it comes out more as a needy whimper. The ceiling looks gray and fuzzy as he stares at it defeatedly. Eunha’s touching him, but the moment is so lost that he barely feels anything. He pulls at her wrist again, and it comes easily, like neither of them are in the mood for anything anymore.

“It’s okay,” he starts, leading her towards the side until she rolls off and into his arms. He’s not even sure if he’s telling her or himself that, but he pulls her against him, tightly, as their legs tangle and chests press together. She’s warm and Taekwoon finds comfort in her arms around his back and her breath against his neck. He shuts his eyes as she whispers, almost sadly, “I love you.”

 

He’s groggy in the morning. The sun shines in so much that he remembers he never actually shut the blinds last night, but he’s too tired to do anything about it. Eunha’s gone, in the kitchen probably. He hears her high pitched voice not far off. He wishes she were still in bed with him because he doesn’t want to be alone right now. Because it’s frustrating, blood boiling, how he reels on about how events from last night went, how he knows it’s never going to go the way he wants, and she’s never going to understand. The helplessness swells within, but he holds it down as he always does. It’s not really her fault, anyway. It’s Won—his own.

She’s on the phone when he pushes his bedroom door open. There’s a glance and a smile out of her as she holds the phone only with her ear and shoulder and turns back towards the counter to grab a mug. Her ‘Mhm’s and  ‘Yeah’s tell him she’s not really paying attention to the person on the other line and she sends Taekwoon an eye roll that proves it.

“Hey, I need to go. I’ll see you in an hour, okay? Yeah. Bye-bye.”

Gently, she puts her phone down against the counter and hands Taekwoon a mug of hot coffee.

“Good morning.” She’s smiling again, as always it seems, and he nods a silent ‘thank you.’ Even in the morning she shines with life, beautiful, with her hair in a messy bun that still looks nice. “You just missed Hongbin. He left like ten minutes ago.”

“Ah, did he?” He pauses to take a sip. Already it’s warm and awakening going down.

“Yeah, we talked a little bit—hey, bend down.” Taekwoon leans in towards her, not really expecting much, but blinks when she combs her fingers through his hair. “He told me about last night. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see Wonsik. I know how much you miss him.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” he spits out suddenly. “Where are you going?”

“I’m filming all day. Oh, and I have a night shoot so I won’t come over tonight.” Taekwoon frowns and Eunha holds her soft grin as she sips her own cup of coffee. “I’ll text you. Aren’t you doing anything?”

“Not until tomorrow,” he says flatly.

“Oh, you know, I should have a day off next week. We should do something. I think it’s Thursday.”

“Really?” Taekwoon perks slightly. They haven’t spent a full day together in months now.

Eunha taps at her phone screen. “Yeah, next Thursday. Are you free that day?”

Taekwoon prays to no one he actually believes in as he checks his own schedule. It’s lacking a lot compared to Eunha’s, but it brings money in and makes him less of an overall shut-in. But his fists clench when he sees a schedule on that day. “I have a photoshoot. It’s from 5AM to 3PM because there’s going to be a lot of people there.”

“Ah… I’ll plan something for when you’re done, okay?” She’s trying to stay positive and Taekwoon appreciates that even though she appears just as sad as he does.

“Okay,” he nods.

 

The house is eerie and quiet once she leaves. And he hates it, he hates being alone these days. He thinks about the years living in the dorms with his other group members and even after he moved, Eunha was here almost every night. In the past he always wanted to be alone and away, free and secluded, but years later, he laughs at his old self. Sanghyuk’s gone, Jaehwan’s in another country, Hongbin’s busy as ever, Hakyeon’s always doing something, and Wonsik’s never anywhere to be found. His other friend groups have drastically dwindled throughout the years, and his sisters have their own families now.

He picks up Todd Cat from the couch and carries him back to his room. Todd Cat looks disoriented for a moment, but settles down beside Taekwoon as they both curl together up on his bed.

Taekwoon does exactly what he tries to avoid. He thinks about everything and nothing all at once. He thinks about how much he misses Sanghyuk and how much he wishes Eunha still worked backstage management at a music show. He checks his phone to see nothing but one text from Hongbin. His usual ‘Thank you’.

Todd Cat purrs loudly as Taekwoon slips his arm beneath to hold him. The cat’s small, but it’s something, and Taekwoon needs something right now. The coffee he drank won’t allow him to easily fall back asleep no matter how much he wants to, but he closes his eyes anyway. He thinks about what Eunha had said earlier about how she ‘knows how much he misses Wonsik.’ He wants to laugh just remembering it. Eunha knows more about Taekwoon than anyone else, the ins and outs, the good and the bad, but there’s one thing Taekwoon never fully enlightened her about—his and Wonsik’s past relationship.

It’s always been complicated. He had always cared too much, always saw Wonsik’s flaws before Wonsik even did himself, and felt a physical push in his mind that just screamed ‘you have to help him.’ Wonsik fell apart in front of him so many times he’s long lost count. He was in more pain than anyone else, ran out more than anyone else, and caused so much more trouble than anyone else. After that one night Hongbin bawled while dragging Wonsik home, Taekwoon vowed he’d do whatever it took to ease his suffering. Ease his mind.

Wonsik quickly figured that out and latched on to Taekwoon’s outstretched hand. There were so many nights he would stumble home, drunk out of his mind, and find his way into Taekwoon’s room. It became a steady pattern. One where Wonsik would laugh and yell, act like a rebellious child, until the moment came where he said, “Hyung, I’m going to throw up.” Taekwoon lead him to the bathroom and shut the door, leaving water and a towel on the floor in case there was any cleanup afterwards. He would go back to bed, staring at the time and count how much sleep he was going to lose come morning. Like clockwork, maybe twenty-five minutes later, Wonsik would softly step back in looking marginally worse, but feeling much better, and ask, “Can I stay with you?”

And Taekwoon could never say no. He would scoot over, lifting the covers up for easy access so Wonsik could slip right in. “I’m sorry,” he would say, but he apologized so much that they all lost their meaning after a while. “Manager hyung is really mad at me,” “My body hurts,” “I miss my family,” were all topics Wonsik would bring up as they lied in the darkness together. But the one that affected Taekwoon the most was Wonsik’s most common reason.

“Hyung, do you not feel lonely? I—I don’t even know what to do half the time. I feel awful and it never goes away. Not even when we’re all together. I’m just so lonely.”

Sometimes he would cry. Sometimes Taekwoon would cry with him. And when he did, Wonsik would wrap his arms around him and hold him; hold the two of them so close together that they were almost one.

As time went on, the pattern changed slightly with the addition of Taekwoon going out more. They ran out together, sometimes in larger groups, but more times than not, just the two of them. Taekwoon finally was able to witness all that Wonsik did whenever he spent the night out: the drinks he poured down his throat, the people he danced with, the volume of the music blasting every thought he had silent, and the joy he felt while doing it all. It was all random, faceless people in the clubs, and they somehow fitted in perfectly. Taekwoon rarely ever got drunk. He drank to feel the buzz, the tingles in his spine, but he was always too aware of Wonsik to let himself go.

He would witness Wonsik singing with other people, trying to hit notes he just couldn’t reach, and laughing so genuinely that Taekwoon didn’t have the heart to ever stop him. Even if they were only out for a couple hours, they would take a taxi back and Taekwoon held Wonsik’s arm as they walked up to their floor. The pattern would return to normal after that. Wonsik would laugh, feel sick, and then join Taekwoon in bed to talk about his situation. But the last part slowed after some time and was replaced with Wonsik leaning his cheek on Taekwoon’s shoulder with his fingers holding the elder’s arm. Or sometimes Wonsik would silently nuzzle against his chest and throw an arm over Taekwoon to hold his side.

And then there was one night in a hotel room on Jeju Island, the members and staff had gone out to celebrate together. With the managers around and a foreign landscape, there really wasn’t any initiative to run out on their own. There was alcohol, but also staff members monitoring. They had a concert the following day and getting sick was not an option. There were stopped after just a few drinks. Wonsik purposely, and very stupidly, did not eat as much as everyone else in order to feel the alcohol more, but he broke the pattern by not getting sick that time. Taekwoon was lying in bed while watching a movie on his phone when he felt Wonsik get in under the sheets behind him. The younger’s arms curved around his chest and pulled him until his back pressed against Wonsik’s body and the younger’s face buried into his neck. It was a new one at the time, but Taekwoon didn’t mind. Wonsik was always warm and it left a pleasant feeling in his chest whenever he did something like that. He was strangely silent for a while and Taekwoon figured he had simply fallen asleep.

“What are you doing?” Taekwoon asked after almost an hour of nothings, softly pulling at his headphones so the buds would fall from his ears.

There was a long pause and Taekwoon didn’t know if it was from drunken confusion or from thinking (or lack thereof). Wonsik’s breath was hot as it traveled around his neck, the scent of alcohol pungent, yet still slightly sweet. Sweet like all of Wonsik’s favorite drinks. And Wonsik murmured, lips still against his skin, “Kissing you.”

“Why?” Taekwoon responded, frozen while feeling much more aware of Wonsik’s presence than he did just minutes ago.

“Can’t I?” Wonsik asked almost apologetically, as if he didn’t quite understand why Taekwoon would even be questioning him.

Taekwoon turned around, struggling slightly within Wonsik’s hold. They were facing each other, staring into one another’s glossy eyes before he noticed Wonsik’s gaze shift down and his hand rest just under Taekwoon’s ear. 

He remembers how the temperature in air immediately felt warmer, how his adrenaline pumped for no reason, and how his brain kept firing off so many broken and confused signals. To this day he still blames the alcohol for his actions, for how he pulled on Wonsik’s neck, crashing their lips together, and starting a new trend that certainly was not any better than any of their previous.

The following morning, Wonsik broke down, and Taekwoon wasn’t sure how to respond when such raw honestly was being thrown at his face. “I’m _so_ lonely, hyung. All I want to do is be with someone, hold them, and kiss them, and be happy, and I can’t. I just can’t. It’s killing me. I don’t know what to do and I’m going crazy. I’m taking it out on you. I—I kissed you… And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

All Taekwoon could say was, “It’s okay.”

Only a week later, back in their familiar setting of Seoul, they snuck out again. Going to the clubs had become much more difficult as Vixx’s popularity grew, so they went to local bars instead. Wonsik didn’t smile or laugh like he once did at the clubs, but there was alcohol so he certainly didn’t complain either. Taekwoon sat with Hongbin, remembering how much he actually enjoyed his company while drinking, but stopped once Wonsik had approached him with a cry of, “I’m not feeling well… Can you come with me… to, ah…Yeah.” So he walked with Wonsik to the bar’s restroom, which turned out to be a simple one room stall. He stood in the corner as Wonsik leaned his forehead against the cold, dirty, tiled wall adjacent to the seat. Wonsik never puked even though Taekwoon wished he would.

He ended up downing the remainder of his drink and taking Wonsik back to the dorm where only the two of them were home. Wonsik kissed him a few times after Taekwoon struggled with getting him into his pajamas and forcing a toothbrush in his mouth. They were strong, deep kisses that Taekwoon was so shocked by that his responses were weak and off in comparison. No one had ever kissed him like that—ever. They were drunken and sloppy, Wonsik held his waist tightly, mixed saliva collecting in the corners of his lips, and his fingers grasped at Wonsik’s shoulders as a reflex.

His mind blanked, telling him this was okay, that it all felt good, that it was helping Wonsik, which, in some sense, were all true. Even after Wonsik’s initial morning after freak out, this behavior didn’t stop.

Their sessions got longer, sometimes as long as an hour, of them kissing, touching lightly, but never anything more. Never below the waist because none of it ever felt sexually intimate like that. He had even asked Wonsik one night, “Do you imagine me as a girl when we do… That?”

Wonsik groaned, holding his head in his hands, feeling ill, “Not really… No. I just—it happens and you’re a person. You’re warm and nice to hold and… I don’t know.” He paused, clearing his throat in a way that sounded painful. “Is that what you do?”

“I don’t really think,” Taekwoon spoke honestly.

Taekwoon believed Wonsik’s words, especially those nights where his hands would slip under Taekwoon’s shirt, running over his skin, up his sides, and over his smooth, flat chest. Taekwoon learned he liked being touched; he liked the feelings, liked weight on top of him. And it worked since Wonsik liked doing all of those things. Drunkenly, of course. Never did they do any of this while completely sober.

And he often questioned it while sober, but never dwelled on it. Wonsik seemed happier as the years went on with them doing this a few times a month. And as far as he is aware, none of the other members ever found out. They found them sleeping together a lot, and Hakyeon even has pictures somewhere, but no one ever witnessed anything else that went on.  

The only time Wonsik truly acted differently was when they were in bed together after a night out with Hakyeon and Jaehwan, and Taekwoon told him, “I’m enlisting in January. I’ve decided to go with Hakyeon on this.”

“What?” Wonsik spoke softly against his chest as he lied atop Taekwoon. He was sobering up quickly that night.

“I haven’t told anyone else yet, but… That’s what I’m going with. I could wait another year, but I don’t want to. I’m tired and I want to get this over with. I want to come back and relax.”

Wonsik went silent for a moment, asking, “What about Vixx?” but Taekwoon only heard, ‘What about me?’

“It won’t really be the same without Hakyeon, anyway. I trust you guys—everything will be fine,” he started, knowing he wasn’t exactly responding how Wonsik wanted him to. He couldn’t see Wonsik’s face, but he figured he was probably panicking. So, softly, he added, “You’re going to be fine.”

Taekwoon thinks that’s the moment where their relationship began to falter. Wonsik either went out less or simply avoided coming to him afterwards more. There were a few times Wonsik would just sleep with him, holding onto him loosely at night, but only once after that did he sleepily feel Wonsik leave a soft kiss on his jaw.  

His enlistment date drew closer as they made their final comeback before he and Hakyeon were to step away for a bit. The members would invite him and Hakyeon out to the bars often as a ‘let’s have fun now before you go’ type of thing, and even though Wonsik had stopped coming to him at night, Taekwoon still worried whenever he noticed him mixing drinks or looking like he was about to bawl. He had asked Sanghyuk to look after him in his place, but apparently that never happened. Hongbin told him, years later, Wonsik just wouldn’t come home at times, and no one really knew where he went or who he was with.

He had moments were he felt antsy, _alone_ , and sleepless often during that time. So when Hakyeon asked him to meet some female staff member, he did, and he ended up dating her for the remaining two months before his enlistment and still is over four years later. And for those four years, Eunha has learned so much about him, but not… Not about Wonsik.

 

His eyes blink open, feeling dry and crusty, and the room is hot. He never did close those blinds and the afternoon sun shines directly on him. Todd Cat is long gone and he checks his phone only to notice he has actually slept for hours. The sweat on his back causes his shirt to stick uncomfortably. He sits up slightly to pull it over his shoulders and to the side, slumping back against the mattress quickly. Part of him wants to go back to sleep, but another part is focused on his quick breathing, on how clearly he can feel his blood flowing throughout his body. There’s a moment he tries to ignore it, but after another few seconds, he realizes he just can’t.

His eyes close as reaches into his pants, pulling them down just enough to get his half-hard cock free. He quickly starts pumping it, wishing he had lotion or lube close, but not having the energy to get up and find some now. Frustration stirs as he only thinks about how he doesn’t want to deal with this now, and yet he’s not finding much relief. He stops, pausing for a moment to just breathe, to focus on his thoughts, to pick something to think about quickly.

So he imagines Wonsik’s large, callused, and rough hands gripping his sides, running up his chest, and over his nipples. A bit like what he used to do, but more, much more intimate and real, and he uses his free hand to mimic his thoughts. His fingers roll against his nipples, squeezing one slightly with a turn, and it doesn’t feel great, weird and slightly itchy even, but the act alone sends signals directly down his spine towards his erection. He curls his body more with the added tingles and stimuli, his heart rate increases, breathing jagged and hard, and he pumps his cock to the unsteady rhythm of it all.

It’s not working, though. He knows it’s not real, that it’s just himself, that Wonsik’s weight isn’t on top of him, and he wants to scream because he’s so close but he can’t quite get there. His wrist begins to hurt and he switches hands, using his now free one to reach back and get his shirt. He can hear himself whimpering as he thinks about how Wonsik used to breathe against his neck, kiss him softly there, and up his jaw; how Wonsik would press their lips together roughly, like he knew Taekwoon could take it, and flick his tongue across his own in ways that felt too good to be real; how Wonsik would hold his face when they kissed.

His body jolts and toes curl as he comes all over his shirt. He groans softly, regrettably, as his body stutters with overdo contractions and quivers. And he remains there with his face pressed against a pillow and his fingers clenching into a fist while grabbing at his shirt.

He showers after, washing off all the psychological dirt and grime, and pulls up his text conversation with Hongbin. He rarely messages him and all that’s there are about a month’s worth of ‘Thank you’ texts from the younger. But he can’t help himself. He can’t think.

‘I need to go out tonight,’ he types quickly, following with, ‘I need to drink.’

And Hongbin immediately responds, ‘I don’t finish filming until 2-ish.’

‘I’ll stay up.’

‘Ok.’

 

Hongbin arrives closer to 2:30 than to 2, but Taekwoon doesn’t really notice. His mind is gone before any alcohol ever gets to it. Hongbin frowns as he walks in with his tight navy winter jacket zipped to his chin and his boots, shining like they have never been worn, squeak against the floor as he bends to remove them.

He steps over cautiously, like there’s no secret, like every bit of him is full of worry. “Sorry, I—I came as soon as I could. Are you alright? You never—” his words halt, and the look on his face silently breaks Taekwoon’s heart.

“Yeah, I’m—yeah,” he shakes himself awake, mentally, if possible, and sits up to at least appear better than he really feels. He’s prepared for this already by putting on not his best clothes, but decent, warm, comfy ones, and blow drying his hair to make it fall properly. Hongbin doesn’t deserve to see him at his worst; he doesn’t need to know what Taekwoon has been doing all day—drowning himself in useless television and watching Eunha’s drama even when she begged him not to all to forget the past. Forget how much it has changed him. Forget how much it’s still affecting him. “Are you?”

“What?” Hongbin looks baffled, nearly broken from impatience.

“Are you okay?” He repeats.

“Hyung, I’m tired, but I’m here,” he says firmly, like he’s not ready for any bullshit. He never is and Taekwoon’s not an exception. “Where do you want to go?”

“A bar,” Taekwoon responds with urgently.

“Okay, and?”

“It needs to be loud, but we need to be alone.” He can’t look at Hongbin in the eye anymore.

“Okay. I’ll drive.”

“No, we’re taking a cab.”

“Fine.”

 

Taekwoon’s glad Hongbin knows him so well. Within twenty minutes they are in a bar, private and separated from the rest of the restaurant, but still close enough to hear everyone else’s chatter, loud enough to block his thoughts. Hongbin sips a beer, but Taekwoon goes for the soju. He tries not to glance at the younger as he downs one, two, three, four shots within the first ten minutes.

“So, what the fuck?” Hongbin asks, lewd and right to the point. “Look at you. You’re going to get sick in fifteen minutes. You’re worse than Wonsik.”

That makes Taekwoon frown and push his shot glass towards the middle of the small table.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Taekwoon says quickly. “I need to not think.”

“Does Eunha know what you’re doing right now?” Hongbin asks softly, and Taekwoon knows what he’s doing. He’s digging for clues that Taekwoon won’t ever outright tell him. He’s good, but Taekwoon is better.

“No, she’s working tonight.” Hongbin looks away and Taekwoon can already feel the bubbles in his blood and his muscles relax. It’s working. So he reaches for his glass again. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

He’s a good drunk, clean and content as he stares off into space for what feels like thirty seconds, but is actually thirty minutes. Hongbin orders a second beer, but Taekwoon doesn’t recall witnessing him ever drink it. He’s listening to the younger rabble on about things, and it’s nice. He’s laughing. He’s thinking about Hongbin and how much he likes him and he’s so grateful to have him by his side. So he stares at him, feeling lightheaded and at ease, smiling to himself for a moment before using his arms as a pillow on the table.

“Feeling alright?” Hongbin questions, poking at his bicep lightly.

“Hey, Bin ah,” he starts, words flowing out like there’s no friction, no filter.

“What?”

“Move in with me.”

His ears ring from a laugh so pure and loud that his body jolts slightly. Hongbin’s knees come up and his fist bangs against the table. He’s gasping. “You are going crazy!”

Taekwoon can’t even argue with that. He lifts his head up, looking with his hazy vision at the younger’s eyes. “Okay, fine, let’s say I did. Where would I even sleep? Hyung, I hate to break it to you, but I’m too much of a big deal to spend the rest of my life sleeping on someone’s couch. I deserve a bed.”

“My bed?” Taekwoon spits out and Hongbin’s grin takes up half his face.

“Right, and when Eunha comes over where will she sleep? Where will you sleep? Are we all going to have a slumber party in your bedroom?”

Taekwoon doesn’t even know how to respond to that. He’s having a hard time keeping up with Hongbin’s attempt at a mind game.

“Just ask Eunha to move in with you already,” Hongbin ends his joke with. “If you’re that lonely.”

“I have,” Taekwoon almost whines, unintentionally of course, and because Hongbin has already figured him out.  “Her company won’t let her. I live too far and it will complicate things.”

“Move?” Hongbin sips at a glass of cola. Taekwoon doesn’t remember him getting that one either.

“I don’t ever want to go back into the city… And,” Taekwoon can’t stop the words anymore. “And she’s never with me anyway. I’m home alone too much. She works too much. Even if she did move in with me, I’d still only see her just as often as I do now.”

“Ah, there we go. Now you’re talking. One and a half soju bottles later,” Hongbin says in a slightly smug tone. “And here I thought you were still mopping over the lives of those trainees.”

His head falls back against his arms and he murmurs, “I hate being alone.”

Hongbin, this time, doesn’t respond to that one.

“I’m alone so much these days. So much that I feel crazy. I crave interactions, I want company, I need someone to not let me think, not let me revert to the past, not let those types of thoughts ruin the good that I have now.”

He sees Hongbin smiling sadly out of the corner of his eye, lips locked shut, so he continues. “Bin ah, I don’t want to think. I don’t want to think at all anymore. Not when I’m alone.”

“Have you told Eunha this?”

Taekwoon perches his chin on his knuckles, swallowing thickly and feeling the saliva burn going down just like the alcohol did. “What am I supposed to tell her? Quit your job because I’m lonely and I need you to distract me from my thoughts? She’s successful and wonderful and her fame only grows by the day.”

Hongbin nods gently, not as if he’s agreeing, but just showing he’s listening.

“And then this morning, she left, and I—I just lost it.”

“What happened?” Hongbin’s voice is so gentle now.

Taekwoon snickers through a short laugh, he’s feeling dizzy now. The words are all there, lined up perfectly, ready to spill, to fall uncontrollably through his lips, but he holds them. Holds them in so tightly because even while he’s this intoxicated, he knows he can’t tell Hongbin. He doesn’t know anything. He never found out about what Taekwoon and Wonsik ever did together, he never had even a hint. Hongbin has his own secrets, too. Hundreds of them, Taekwoon is sure of it. But this, this is too much, too much to risk if Hongbin doesn’t understand. How could he understand if Taekwoon doesn’t even understand it himself?

“Hyung,” Hongbin says, frowning.

So he doesn’t say anything as he takes his phone out of his back pocket. The screen appears brighter than usual and his eyes struggle to adapt. His body feels so fucked up that he laughs. His fingers press against the screen slowly, tapping until he finds himself scrolling through his contacts.

“What are you doing?” Hongbin asks, tone full of concern, as he stands up to lean over.

Taekwoon instinctively turns away, the pad of his finger pressing against the call button, and holding the phone to his ear. It rings, a playful, generic tune that is so unfitting, Taekwoon has a moment where he thinks he may have called the wrong person. He waits, and waits, and holds his arm out to push back on Hongbin from getting any closer.

But there’s a beep on the other line. The message playing “Hi, this is Kim Wonsik. Sorry I—” has his brain stuttering, his body slumping in despair, and he hangs up before the very familiar voice gets to him even more. Of course he isn’t going to pick up. He never does anymore. Not even when Taekwoon wants to talk to him. Not even when Taekwoon needs to talk to him. He needs to know he’s alright. That he’s not drinking too much, not like Taekwoon is right now, that maybe at least one of them has healed and moved on. Or if not, someone is taking care of him. He needs to know if Wonsik is happy, if he has support from all angles, if he still cries at night. He needs to scold him if he really did pick up smoking. He needs him to… To not be such a mystery… To… Please, please pick up the damn phone.

“Hyung,” Hongbin says again after close to ten minutes of silence. “I’m going to call a cab. I’m going to take you home.”

Taekwoon moans against his sleeve.

 

 

His head pounds as three women surround him while sitting in a chair. Two work on his makeup and one pulls at the hairs on his head. It’s different than his Vixx days. He doesn’t know any of them, they don’t travel everywhere with him, they are people he’s never met before, people he doesn’t have to talk to, so he doesn’t. His eyes blink open and the mirror reflects someone he doesn’t feel like, someone well put together and definitely not hung over. He’s always surprised at how well makeup covers that.

The photoshoot lasts six hours, and it’s a good six hours full of sleep breaks and shoving food from the staff lunch table in his mouth. He may have been actually modeling for only an hour or so, but it is nice. He enjoys working. He enjoys how it takes his mind away from his quiet house. From how many more days he has to wait until he can see Eunha again.

Hongbin texts him a lot. Even though he’s not physically beside him, the messages are amusing. And even though many are Hongbin picking on him for his behavior from the prior night, he knows it’s simply the younger’s way of making sure he’s alright. He finds himself checking his phone a lot. Not so much for Hongbin’s texts, but to see if Wonsik has ever returned his call. It’s unlikely, and at this point, and while sober, Taekwoon’s not even sure he’d know what to say.  

Todd Cat is waiting by the door when he walks in his quiet house. He smiles as his cat meows needingly now that his daddy’s home. So he puts down his bags and coffee cup on the counter to care for the only thing he’s got to come home to.

He knows it won’t last, knows that feeding the cat takes no more than five minutes, but he stretches it out, taking his time refilling Todd Cat’s food bowl that is only half empty and give him fresh water.

The makeup runs thickly off his skin in the shower. He has music playing softly, but it’s not loud enough to overpower the sound of the stream hitting the tile. He looks like how he feels again, and somehow, it’s calming.

His clock reads 9:16PM as he crawls into bed. He knows he can’t avoid the inevitable anymore, but he tries to stay composed. His eyes shut tightly as his arms tense around a cool pillow. His hopes of the sheets smelling like Eunha vanish quickly as he noses into them, only to catch hints of his own body wash and shampoo lingering within. It’s all hopeless anyway.

 

He wonders when things between him and Wonsik started feeling sexual, starting becoming more than the game they would play. It definitely wasn’t when they were together, at least it never felt like it. He remembers times where Wonsik would treat him like a girlfriend he wished he had, a person Wonsik’s drunken self wanted him to be, probably—he sometimes assumed years later. Times where he would slowly nip at Taekwoon’s lips to work them open, tilt his face to deepen their kisses, and pull away with eyes connected. And Taekwoon was never stupid, he knew what Wonsik was doing, what he was simulating for himself, what he was using Taekwoon for, but in the end, he never minded. He did the exact same thing. It was a need and desire for human touch, human intimacy, skin against skin, and warmth and security they couldn’t derive from anywhere else.

When Eunha came into his life, things were different. He wasn’t so lonely anymore, he wasn’t craving touch because he had it. He had Eunha even when Wonsik was no longer there. On his breaks from the army he came back and spent nights with her. Nights with no sleep, nights where it was all physical, all lustful, all about her. And he would touch her, kiss her everywhere, and feel satisfied afterwards. He didn’t think about Wonsik like that anymore. He didn’t even miss it. He almost forgot it.

But the memories are still there lingering in his mind whenever he’s alone. When Eunha started being home less, started sleeping over less, and started rejecting intimacy in favor of sleep because her job drained her, the yearning would return. He would remember the feeling of Wonsik’s fingers fitting in the grooves of his rib cage while lying beside him, his morning scruff tickling his neck, all while looking over at Eunha rushing to leave for work long before the sun rose. His mind went back and forth between the two of them. Loving Eunha, but wishing she would be more like Wonsik at the same time. And he would get irritated thinking that way. If Eunha had any flaws, he couldn’t see them. She was perfect. She is still perfect, but Taekwoon is not.

Taekwoon is broken like Wonsik was. Or maybe Wonsik helped break him. Maybe they’re broken together. He has never been like this before Wonsik started leaning on him for support and now he doesn’t know how to get back.

He thinks if he could marry Eunha his life would be perfect, but he can’t. He can’t commit. He can’t live this way and he’s long realized it since her acting career launched. Hakyeon’s wedding opened his eyes to that. Eunha whispering hints about marriage made his stomach turn, his face to lie, and anxiety to takeover. He’s afraid now.

He has an extra stash of condoms hidden in his closet she doesn’t know about. So when he needs to get one, he rips one from his box to be safe. Irrational, _absolutely_ , he knows she’s not crazy, she would _never_ do something like that, but he often gets images of her taking a needle to their original box and it nearly makes him sick. He knows too well how badly she wants to marry him. And if he gets her pregnant, there’s no going back. That’s it.

Yet he can’t let her go. That’s the last thing he wants. He doesn’t know how to be alone anymore without losing himself. Eunha is happier than ever, but he’s not.

 

 

The next few days are long ones. Slow and dragging, as if the entire world is against him even though the sun still shines brightly. Hongbin stops messaging him, like normal, and he only hears his voice through the television he keeps on so the house isn’t so quiet. Todd Cat sleeps calmly on his bed, as if he knows Taekwoon will be there so often that it’s worth his while to stay there in hopes of being pet. And Taekwoon forces himself to stay busy. He goes out, buys groceries and a few new shirts, and comes back to cook himself dinner since it kills time. He’s only got one more day until he can see Eunha again and he can’t wait. She hasn’t told him what she has planned, but he doesn’t think it matters anyway.  He knows he just has to get through one more night and one more schedule.

 

‘I’ll pick you up after the photoshoot.’ She texts him early in the morning, before Taekwoon’s already third cup of coffee.

‘I miss you.’ He responds back with, frowning at his phone and not caring when his makeup artist scoffs.

‘I miss you, too.’

Like all the previous days, the photoshoot feels like it lasts a lifetime. He’s outside with almost ten other models as they wear a set of long jackets that aren’t as warm as they seem. His breath puffs out before him, giving the photographer a difficult time to get the shots he wants. It only drags on and his phone is stuck inside with his manager so he can’t even check.

After two more outfit changes and sets being transported back indoors, he’s done. His manager tells him Eunha called and returns his phone quickly before leaving and saying a quick, “See you later.”

Taekwoon stands outside the studio, shivering slightly, but not giving in to his body begging him to return inside. He stares blankly at the road in front of him, waiting impatiently as he’s done the entire week for the sight of Eunha’s silver car to turn the corner and her smile to welcome him in. And it doesn’t take long. She pulls up in the parking lot within fifteen minutes and his heart starts racing when he notices. He already feels warmer.

There are a few cars following them that he’s not sure Eunha notices, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s far too used to this kind of behavior from fans, but he still doesn’t even know why they would do this anymore. Even if they got pictures of the two of them together, it would be pointless. The nation already knows they’re together. By the time they leave the city, most will give up. They don’t really matter, though. The car smells like Eunha and her voice is so soothing he can’t help but ignore everything else.

“Jihae told me I had to attend this meeting today and I was so upset. It was supposed to be my day off!” She spoke in an irritated tone, but Taekwoon could tell she’s already over it. “So I didn’t have time to plan anything. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be. I kind of just want to go home and get this makeup off.”

“Okay.” She glances at him with a smile.

They barely make it through the doorway before Taekwoon wraps his arms around her. Eunha remains quiet, but she still leans against him effortlessly within the embrace. She’s like medicine, like a _drug_ , because he instantly feels better as he leaves small kisses on her cheek and nose. And she moans a little bit, giving Taekwoon a hint that maybe, just maybe she’s in the mood tonight, and he presses their bodies together in a way where she could not misinterpret his intentions.

She laughs suddenly, though, and pushes a hand on his chest. “Go wash your face! It feels strange!”

So he does, pulling away so quickly towards the bathroom that he nearly forgets to remove his coat. He scrubs his skin back to normal against the warm water. His hair is still held together in an interesting style he can’t tell if he likes, but he doesn’t care enough to rinse it clean now. Besides, Eunha will probably mess it up anyway if things go as he hopes.

She’s standing in the living room with Todd Cat walking around her with his tail up.  Her coat is thrown over the couch next to Taekwoon’s and he’s happy to see her wearing comfortable clothing on her day off—or so it was supposed to be.

He easily lifts her in his arms and she yelps in shock, arms wrapping quickly around his neck, and her laughter replaces all other sound. She yells his name in a way he knows she’s smiling as he spins them around. She’s clinging to his body, all of her, as if she’s afraid she might fall, but they both know he’d never let that happen. Everything about her is delicate, soft, and light. The fabric of her shirt falls down her shoulder and Taekwoon presses his lips to the warm skin.

“What are you waiting for?” She whines against his ear when he remains still. Her voice is low and tender.

“Are you tired?” He asks slowly to clarify, almost in disbelief.

“I’m wide awake.”

It’s fast once they make it into his bedroom. Eunha slips her shirt off and Taekwoon’s hands hold her little waist. His body is already pulsating, heart pumping so fast from the moment. He doesn’t even remember taking off his shirt, but it suddenly is tossed aside, on the ground before his feet. They’re kissing and his thoughts stop when her small hands hold his face and it feels like all his nerves are shooting off signals at once. It tickles, tingles, and he’s so engrossed in the feeling of her fingers moving across his back and the floral scent radiating from her being that he eagerly crawls on the bed to join her. It’s elegant how she rolls on her back, hands still holding Taekwoon close, and her smooth legs bend around each side of his waist loosely. She whispers a few words, something about love and sex and Taekwoon, and nothing else matters. She lies there beautifully; she’s so gorgeous Taekwoon wonders how he has gotten so lucky.

He just keeps kissing her, touching her, and taking in the sensations of her responding to it all. His mind feels so clouded, so overpowered by desire and lust to think of anything else besides the woman beneath him. She moans and squeaks as his tongue laps over her skin and it only causes Taekwoon’s blood to rush more.

The remainder of their clothes are removed fast, yet still slower than Taekwoon would have initially liked. She arches her back as he holds her breasts, squirming against his movements while he leaves kisses down her body. Her skin burns against his, sparking in a way he hasn’t felt in months. And it feels great, he feels alive, feels the adrenaline surging through him as she moans along to his every touch; as her legs fall open for him; as he leans his face in between them.

He truly believes Eunha deserves the best. She’s amazing; a woman who’s overflowing with love and never ending positivity. Beautiful, smart, rational, and passionate with everything she does and everyone she interacts with. Taekwoon really does believe she is perfect.

And then he remembers he’s not. Taekwoon hesitates for a moment as he digs through his closet for his condom stash. He frowns to himself, thinking about his rationale revolving around his hidden box and instantly he can feel the mood beginning to crack. He returns back to the bed quickly, feeling this pit of guilt and anxiety pool in his chest, in hopes to block them back at least until they’re done.

Eunha doesn’t seem to notice anything. She’s sprawled for him, eyes dilated and a smirk on her face. Her hand is held out and he takes it, balancing himself on the mattress, before she guides him down beside her. He can feel his body reacting again as she leans over him, pressing her lips against his skin.

The heat wherever she touches burns and Taekwoon moans slightly when her hand brushes over his hips. This is what he wants, this is what he needs, and he just cannot wait anymore.

“Hand that to me,” she murmurs against his collar.

The demand breaks all of Taekwoon’s concentration. “What?”

“The condom, Taek.”

“Oh.” 

She rolls the condom down his erection, pumping it a few times with her delicate hands. Taekwoon feels it, though. He bends up slightly to meet her, to kiss her, and she moves over him for better access to it all. Her fingers run though his hair as she lowers herself onto him, slowly, yet sitting within just a few seconds. And Taekwoon’s sweating, his entire body feels on fire as she pushes him back down against the sheets. He’s gapping, shocked and overwhelmed by all her sudden actions, yet finding it all so exciting at the same time. He feels her weight on top of him, he feels her heat and touch, and when she starts moving, rolling her hips in a slow and controlled motion, he lulls his head back, gripping at her hips to help.

He’s dazed, watching her, feeling her inside and out, but the feelings don’t last like he wants them to—not like this. She hums and quivers, entwining her pink painted fingernails with his own, obviously enjoying herself, but he shivers slightly from his cooling sweat.  This isn’t working for him anymore.

“Eunha—Eunha,” he starts, not really able to find words, but still lifting her off of him at the same time. She goes easily, melting into his arms like she doesn’t even sense anything wrong. And Taekwoon goes with it, he flips them, taking control of this before things get worse. His body covers hers as he kisses her hard, demanding, and he enters her again. Eunha’s moans are loud and lustful, slim hands holding his back tightly, and he already feels more stable than before as he rocks in and out, mending them closer.

Taekwoon’s hips snap quickly once he finds his rhythm, thrusts stronger and deeper than he’s ever done with her before. He’s never had to work this hard, never struggled this much to stay turned on, never felt so much anxiety over sex before. The constant wavering all almost makes his eyes water.

So he focuses solely on Eunha. Touching her in all her most sensitive places, kissing her, making her body stutter and twitch, and moans uncontrollably pass through her lips. And it’s calming slightly, knowing that he can make her feel the way he wishes she could for him.

She squeezes his hand as he nuzzles his face into her neck. He doesn’t want to show his expressions as he tries to control his own emotions, concentrate on the sensations and pleasure, the sounds, and the rolls of his hips. He wants this to end; this time, he’s the one getting tired. So he thinks about Wonsik.

Just like himself, Eunha’s gets quiet. Her whimpers are low, mingling beautifully with her quick breaths. He holds her through her orgasm, taking in every sputter and tremble her body makes before pulling out, disconnecting the two of them, and letting the rush of heat fizzle out.

“Mm,” she draws out an exhale, looking up at him with wide eyes. “That was great.”

Taekwoon wants to laugh, but he only smiles in return. At least he can do that for her. “Yeah.”

Her hand caresses his cheek and his eyes shut because it feels good, nice, pleasant—real. She kisses him gently on the lips and it helps him regain some joy in the situation.

“Hey Taekwoon,” she calls, voice soft and delicate, and his eyes open to the soothing feeling of her nails running through the hairs behind his ear.

“Hm?” he breathes.

She’s smiling prettily. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he repeats truthfully, painfully, as he feels as if his heart drops as the words come out.

The night is still young, but they agree to remain in bed for a little bit. Eunha eventually goes to the bathroom after a few minutes to wash up and Taekwoon wraps the condom in a tissue, gritting his teeth together in frustration, before aggressively slamming it into his trashcan, and fighting the overwhelming urge to kick it as hard as he can down the hall.

The night wasn’t supposed to go like this. It wasn’t supposed to end so quickly with Eunha eating beside him in bed while he lies exhaustedly. He hoped they were to go out, spend time together, do something fun, but no. Taekwoon showered while Eunha ordered in take-out and he spent most of the time staring blankly at the wall instead of scrubbing his body.

“You can sleep if you want,” Eunha suggests softly. “I know you’re tired. You worked all morning.”

His eyes shut, but the screen from Eunha’s phone is still bright to his vision. He doesn’t remember exactly when it happened, but he actually fell asleep surprisingly quickly.

 

 

“You’re extra quiet today,” Hongbin leans against his counter as Taekwoon cuts a roll of kimbap he picked up on a whim a few days ago. And he’s glad for it since he hasn’t been in the mood to cook.

“Am I?” He questions even though he knows himself that Hongbin’s observation is completely correct.

Hongbin rolls his eyes and it causes Taekwoon to smirk a little bit. He reaches over to snag a piece before Taekwoon’s even finished slicing the damn thing. “Anyway,” he pauses to take a small bite, “I booked us a room at this karaoke bar and—”

“I’m not going,” Taekwoon says immediately while sending a stern glare at the younger.

Hongbin gawks with a whine. “Hyung!”

“No.”

“Why not? It will just be the two of us,” his voice fades in a sad tone.

“Hongbin, no.”

“But you love singing and there will be drinks. Lots of them and no one will bother us, okay? It’s a private room.”

Taekwoon sighs loudly to make a point Hongbin will most likely ignore. He considers it for a moment, but making sure not to give the younger a definite answer. Hongbin reaches for the plate of kimbap in the meantime, smiling to himself already because even he knows he’s already won. “Eunha can join us if she’s planning on coming over tonight. I don’t mind waiting.”

Taekwoon freezes as he searches the fridge for a water bottle. No, Eunha’s not coming tonight. He’s not sure when she’s coming back anymore, and he feels almost robotic just thinking about it. He’s not sure how to feel—if he even can. It’s already been two nights since they were together and he hasn’t been able to snap back to normal. Maybe going out will be good for him, he wonders.

“Alright, I’ll go.”

Hongbin beams while throwing his hand in the air.

 

And he regrets it immediately. The bright neon lights of the room cause his eyes to squint even more when he gazes at Hongbin for getting him in this situation. The younger complains, “It’s no fun to sing by myself. Just do it.”

Three drinks in, he takes the mic. He hates these stupid games. He hates the voice in the back of his mind telling him he _has to get a better score than Hongbin_. But he does it, he sings as if he’s on stage even when Hongbin is his only audience who’s downing his fourth drink and clapping his hands along with the melodies. His body feels light, though. Even if he can’t fully comprehend what he’s doing, he’s happy. At least he’s aware of that. Hongbin’s wiggling along with the chorus to whatever he’s singing and he can’t stop the laughter in his gut from pouring out. Hongbin’s eyes are almost as large as his smile and Taekwoon thinks that maybe he doesn’t actually regret it that much.

They break after a while and Taekwoon’s not sure of the time anymore. He stares at the empty glasses on the table, but doesn’t have the will to actually count them. Hongbin’s still singing, singing too hard like he’s forgotten how to breathe properly during a performance, and it’s amusing to Taekwoon. The younger finishes another song before slumping beside him on the couch. They glance at one another and drunkenly laugh at their own stupidity and silliness.

“Hey, guess what?” Hongbin starts, but doesn’t actually give Taekwoon time to respond. “The most beautiful girl I have ever seen approached me today. And I really mean it. She’s beautiful. She’s some model, I think—or she should be.”

“And?” Taekwoon rolls his head back over the edge of the couch.

“What do you think?” He smirks and pushes lightly on Taekwoon’s side. “I said no.”

“ _Hongbin_ ,” he stresses, groaning slightly.

There’s a gasp. “What? There was something about her. Something about her walk or the look in her eyes that felt wrong.”

“You say that about every girl who talks to you,” Taekwoon says flatly, slightly annoyed already by how Hongbin handles these kinds of things.

“Yeah, well, what do you want from me?” He returns in a defensive tone before glancing back over at the table for any remnants of leftover drinks.

“You can’t be so paranoid of everyone.”

“Maybe one day I’ll say yes,” he chuckles to himself for a moment before pressing some buttons on the screen on the wall to order more alcohol. It is going to be one of those kinds of nights for Hongbin, apparently. Taekwoon tells Hongbin to only order him a water.

 

Hongbin’s story was never a mystery to the Vixx members. Taekwoon saw it all. From the moment the younger girl approached him to the day he came home in a mess of tears holding onto Wonsik as if his life depended on it. The girl was a member of a rookie group at the time. And it was great, Hongbin seemed genuinely happy and enthusiastic for the first six months they were together. He’d be visually giddy whenever they had chances to see one another as they dated in secret.

Apparently Jaehwan overheard her and her manager standing outside their backstage room of a music show whispering something about posting a picture and something about timing it with their upcoming album release, but Taekwoon was never filled in on all the details. He just knows that the information somehow got passed on to Wonsik. And within the next week, he found Hongbin and Wonsik stumbling home together looking like a mess. Hongbin broke down, crying and trembling so hard he could barely form words, but when he did, they were loud and clear. “She lied. It was all a plan to use me for recognition, to get her group’s name out—”

“I beat the shit out of her manager,” Wonsik seethed through his teeth in such a tone that there wasn’t even a question about if he were telling the truth or not. “Fucking prick… Fucking asshole…” He kept on mumbling under his breath. Hongbin nodded almost lifelessly, clutching onto Wonsik’s arm tightly, as if he was keeping him close so he wouldn’t go off again. “It was all his plan… Out of all the shitty things management does…” Wonsik gave a hard kick to the side of their dorm couch, creating a dent that never got fixed.

They were incredibly lucky. The story never broke because the small company of the girl group had too much at stake to have a scandal. Wonsik never got in trouble; nothing ever happened to him for putting another man in the hospital for some bad bruising and minor bleeding. Hongbin received multiple formal apologies, but disregarded all of them. The girl group disbanded the following year and it just became another one of those ‘behind closed doors’ stories that the public never knew about.

Hongbin gave up on dating after that. The members thought he would snap out of it after a few months and move on, but he never did. Still hasn’t. And it’s sad, Taekwoon often thinks, because during those few months he has never seen Hongbin happier.

“There was so much blood dripping out of his nose… I thought I was going to pass out. I couldn’t move. I just stood there shocked and shaken as Minjoo screamed from the corner of the room. And then I ran up and stopped Wonsik after his third punch on the guy. He struggled so much in my arms and he still wouldn’t stop yelling things like, ‘How could you play with someone’s emotions like that? How could you fucking lie through your teeth to someone who let you in? Pretend and gain someone’s love and trust just to fucking use them for your own selfish needs? He’s a human being!’” Hongbin once explained to him nearly a year and a half later when it came up in conversation. And Hongbin laughed, speaking in his own version of Wonsik’s voice. “Visually it’s like a blur now, but I just can’t seem to fully forget it.”

“I’m sorry,” Taekwoon added, solemnly.

“Hakyeon told me a few months ago he would have done the same thing. He was so scared when we told him. Don’t you remember that?”

That’s another image Taekwoon will never forget. The shattered, colorless, look on Hakyeon’s face as every word through Hongbin’s mouth drained and destroyed him inside and out. He sobbed to Taekwoon and Jaehwan a few nights later how he was absolutely terrified they were going to lose Wonsik over this.

“I probably would have, too,” Taekwoon remembers responding to Hongbin with. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“Yeah, I—” he took in a deep breath. “Thanks.”

 

And Wonsik followed him to bed almost a week after this all happened, the mental and emotional wounds still fresh and raw, and his mind continued prickling with the effects of their evening drinks from earlier that night.

“Why did you do it?” Taekwoon asked softly against the thin wall of darkness between them.

“Because I love Hongbin,” Wonsik whispered, “He’s like my brother and knowing he was being tricked and deceived made me lose it.” He paused, sighing out a breath that was warm to Taekwoon’s face. “I’ll always try to protect him… I’ll always try to protect all of you.”

“If you love Hongbin, why don’t you do this with him?” Taekwoon asked without thinking much, although he still wonders if the thought should have ever been verbalized even years later.

“Well, he _had_ a girlfriend,” he explained and Taekwoon only blinked when he realized they had been doing this much longer than Hongbin had been dating the girl for. “And I don’t think he’d let me. Besides, our relationship is a little different.” He held Taekwoon’s jaw within his palm and they kissed lightly, as if Wonsik was trying to make a point Taekwoon didn’t quite get.

 

But ah, he somehow got himself thinking about Wonsik again. Hongbin’s passed out against his side and he wonders if he fell asleep as well at some point. His phone reads 3:14AM so he calls a cab.

Hongbin stirs in his sleep, blinking, but his eyes aren’t exactly responsive when they gaze back at him. The room is quiet as Taekwoon collects their things, shoving Hongbin’s phone and keys back in his pockets, and holding his arm around the younger’s waist to guide him towards the door. He wonders if any of Hongbin’s fans are _still_ waiting outside for him. They must have seen him drunk before, but just in case, he holds Hongbin tightly upright against him as they walk out front to the taxi. There are a few girls standing, waiting with cameras, but they shy away once Taekwoon steps towards them. He’s not in the mood for any of this, but that doesn’t stop them. Lights flash, shutters take snapshots of the memories, and Hongbin’s fingers curl into the back of his coat.

Thankfully no one seems to follow them as the driver takes them around the block towards Taekwoon’s home. He sighs heavily before rubbing his eyes way more than he probably should. The ride back is quick with the little nighttime traffic, and Taekwoon’s glad for it. Hongbin trots slowly behind him. His eyes wide and concerning, but his mouth stays shut through it all. He’s never usually this quiet when he’s this intoxicated. Taekwoon takes his wrist to hurry them in the elevator.

He pushes his front door open with Hongbin leaning all his weight on his back. Immediately the familiar scent of his home is calming, but he sees Eunha’s purse sitting on the counter and he freezes. He digs through his coat pockets for his phone, something he hadn’t done once the entire night, and finds she sent him a few messages saying she was heading over, asking where he was, and when he’d be back.

A groan makes its way up his throat. He grabs Hongbin, hoisting his thin body up in his arms. Hongbin moans out a weak “Hyung, no…,” but Taekwoon ignores it. He lays the younger down against the couch where Hongbin immediately curls himself within the comfort of his own winter coat. The laces on his boots come undone easily and Taekwoon places them orderly by the door, just like how Hongbin would want them anyway. He gets the blue blanket out of the closet, the trash can and a water glass out of the kitchen, and sets it all up how he normally does. Hongbin’s eyes are closed peacefully when he tosses the blanket over him. And Taekwoon sighs, knowing Hongbin certainly did not eat enough or drink enough water for him to be alright the next morning. He places a few generic pain killers next to the water beside him and heads to his bedroom.

Eunha is asleep in his bed and he feels a heavy weight of guilt against his chest. So he leans over her, running his fingers gently through the soft strands of her hair before whispering, “Hey, I’m home.”

She moans slightly, scrunching her face up in a way Taekwoon finds cute. “Where were you? You reek of alcohol.”

“Ah,” he backs up a little and she lifts her head off the pillow to follow. “Hongbin and I went out. He’s in the other room.”

She stares at him during a pause. “Are you going to sleep?”

“Yeah, let me wash up first. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” She nods, lowering her head back against the pillow.

His gives her a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping out, shutting the door behind him, and into the washroom for a quick shower. Eunha’s not happy, he can already tell just by the look in her tired eyes. And he gets it. He didn’t even think to check his phone during the night, but at the same time, it was a nice feeling.

There’s gasping and coughing and other horrible sounds coming from outside the bathroom that has Taekwoon rushing to find Hongbin hunched over the garbage can, breathing heavily out of his mouth. Taekwoon shuts his eyes when Hongbin leans his head farther down to vomit up another round. It’s hard to listen to because it’s been so long since he’s last heard someone do it. That someone probably being Wonsik, but it always sounds the same no matter who’s doing it.

“Are you alright?” He asks, coming up to stand behind him, and glancing down to see the water droplets from his hair drip against the floor. He swipes his sock over them.

“I—yeah,” Hongbin stutters, his body trembling obviously. “Yeah.”

He puts the garbage can down and Taekwoon takes a seat beside him.

“I was laying there,” he snaps, swallowing thickly, and Taekwoon snickers once Hongbin smiles again. A weak one, but it’s better than none.

“It’s my house.”

“Fine, fine,” he coughs out, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Do you need anything?” He asks, his voice coming out a bit more tender than he expects.

It seems to take Hongbin by surprise, too. “Probably sleep. I have an interview at noon.”

“Drink the water. I’ll get you some food… It will help.”

Hongbin nods, reaching for the glass. Taekwoon takes the trash out once Hongbin gives him the okay that he’s done and heads into the kitchen. He doesn’t have much food, but there’s some leftover rice and kimchi he manages to plate up together. Hongbin turns the television on and goes through two more glasses of water, and it makes Taekwoon feel a little bit better.

Taekwoon’s hair is already dry by the time he sits back on the couch beside Hongbin. He’s not sure where the time went, but it’s somehow already dawn.

“Thank you,” Hongbin says softly, leaning his head upon Taekwoon’s shoulder. “And I’m sorry at the same time.”

“It’s okay,” he responds with, almost like he always does. “Eunha’s sleeping anyway.”

“Eunha’s here?” Hongbin sounds surprised, glancing up at Taekwoon apologetically.

“Yeah.”

He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, “I’m really sorry then.” 

“I can’t remember the last time you got sick like this.”

Hongbin laughs softly against him. “It’s been a while. I had fun tonight though. We should definitely do that again.”

“Mm,” Taekwoon moans, “We’ll see about that.”

There’s a quiet lull. Hongbin shuffles his body a little bit, but doesn’t actually move. His voice is quiet again when he suddenly asks, “Ah, sorry I never asked, but did you ever hear back from Wonsik?”

“What?” Taekwoon blurts out after a moment.

“Last time when we went out you called him? You were stupidly drunk. Do you not remember?”

“Ah, um—” he starts, a little upset with himself for allowing Hongbin to not only witness that, but also remember it. “He did not.”

“That asshole,” Hongbin scoffs.

 

Eunha’s not any happier in the morning. Taekwoon never returned to bed so she found the two of them sleeping on the couch with the television on. Hongbin doesn’t move for a long time. He has his arms folded around his head and his face down against the cushions. Eunha frowns at Taekwoon from the kitchen as he softly talks Hongbin into taking medicine.

“Did you not see my messages?” She asks once Hongbin disappears in the bathroom and they hear the shower start.

“I didn’t see them until I got home,” he tries explaining, but even he knows he has no excuse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be coming over.”

“Why would you think that? I always try to spend the night over whenever I can.”

Taekwoon nods slowly. He knows he did wrong, but for some reason he doesn’t feel that bad anymore. Maybe it’s just in the moment or maybe because he’s worrying more about the possibility of Hongbin falling over in the shower and hurting himself—Wonsik’s done it before—but she’s not phasing him.

And she recognizes that, it seems. She folds her arms with a sigh. “I need to go soon. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay over for the next few days. Please remember that.”

“Alright,” he says, subconsciously mimicking her sour serious expression.

She leaves within the hour, pulling him into a quick kiss before shutting the door. Taekwoon’s lips tingle in a pleasant way after, but the feeling fades quickly.  

“I feel like absolute fucking shit,” Hongbin shouts roughly from down the hall. Taekwoon laughs for a moment, seeing Todd Cat’s ears go back and spine arch, before returning to the younger.

 

 

His days are filled with sleeping and going to the gym to prepare for upcoming photoshoots his manager has accepted for him. He’s alone mostly. Todd Cat paws at his arms whenever he’s resting, but his house rings its usual quiet tune whenever he returns to it. His stereo plays a variety of music throughout the rooms and he sings along, pausing every so often to laugh at himself, but continuing anyway and adding songs he and Hongbin sang together during their karaoke night to the playlist.

Something has changed and he can feel it. He doesn’t take long to figure out what it is either. Eunha hasn’t been around for almost a week now and he hasn’t really been yearning for her. He hasn’t been feeling much of anything. His television has been off so he hasn’t kept up with her through her activities. She still calls, but he finds his concentration elsewhere whenever she talks.

She makes reservations at a famous Japanese restaurant for the two of them over the weekend. Taekwoon’s happy to go out, but traveling within the city with Eunha is never an easy task. Groups follow them, yell questions at her, shout for her to turn around for them to snap some pictures of her outfit or smile, or to show Taekwoon in a bad light when he ignores them all. Sometimes he convinces himself he’s finally desensitized from it all, but at night when he thinks about it deeper, he knows he’s really not.

Eunha leads him to the bedroom this time. Her smile’s sly and walk’s seductive as she backs against the door. Taekwoon’s gaze is strong and unbreakable as he plays along. Her hand curves around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. Lustful and deep, and Taekwoon tugs her against him. Their lips move quickly and Taekwoon finds himself not enjoying the stickiness of whatever lipstick she has on. He cups her face, though, still kissing as she moans against his mouth for more.

His mind is too active. He’s thinking about how her touch is too delicate, how her hands are too smooth, and how his blood feels stagnant. His body isn’t reacting to any of it. In fact, he’s exhausting himself just by trying and his stress receptors feel like they’re blurring all his other signals out. It’s too much and yet nothing at all.

Taekwoon pulls back and Eunha’s confused expression aggravates him entirely. He feels as if he could scream and shout, but he has enough self-control to hold back. Instead he releases a drawn out exhale and takes a step back, disconnecting all touch from the two of them. “I can’t do this tonight.”

She can’t complain—he absolutely won’t allow her to. He’s never complained after the high number of times she’s halted his advances.  Her eyes are large, lips parted in a hesitant sense, and the look on her face pulls tightly on Taekwoon’s heart. “What’s wrong?”

All of Eunha’s past excuses reel through his mind as he desperately searches for one to stick with. But he can’t, he’s not a liar, so he’s says exactly what comes to mind. “I need a drink.”

He has never seen Eunha’s expression crash so hard. She steps forward, wrapping her arms around his back tightly while pressing her face into his chest. And he holds her there, dropping his head down atop hers.

 

 

Winter has officially begun, but no snow has fallen quite yet. The nights are brutal and frigid, bone chilling when the winds get especially strong. Stars shine bright at night though, often brighter than the rest of the year, Taekwoon thinks, or maybe it’s just because he pays attention to them more now that the trees don’t form as much of a thick canopy as they used to. It’s easier to walk out and breathe in the fresh air. Bulky jackets, scarves, and hats hide his identity and provide a greater sense of comfort whenever he leaves his home—especially when he’s with Eunha. They blend in with everyone else attempting to fair the cold.

Eunha recently accepted a new acting role and hasn’t been around too much though. He hasn’t been able to enjoy his favorite comforts of winter with her this season yet. He’s not sure if he even will since she has to go to Taiwan for filming in a few weeks.

So he sits at a bar Hongbin ushered him to. Hongbin’s talking, but Taekwoon’s not really paying attention. He’s already got a few drinks in his system, messing with his mind in ways he’s not fully conscious of yet, and he turns to the younger deliberately. They share a gaze, strong yet unfocused, that stops Hongbin’s story immediately.

Hongbin’s sipping his whisky slowly while blinking at him, silently urging him to go on and get it out already. But Taekwoon waits, watching Hongbin turn away to drink again, his predictable pauses obvious, and again, he suggests, “Move in with me.”

Hongbin only laughs softly. “We’ve been over this. I really don’t think Eunha would like that.”

“It doesn’t matter what Eunha thinks anymore,” Taekwoon says thickly, clutching his fingers tightly around his own glass.

Hongbin’s eyes widen and his smile disappears before Taekwoon can even remember it. He looks extremely alarmed. His voice lowers as he slowly asks, “Hyung, what are you saying?”

“I can’t do this with her anymore. I can’t—”

“You’re going to break up with her?” He interrupts urgently.

Taekwoon only nods slowly, as if he’s accepting it himself at the same time.

“No, hyung… no…,” Hongbin nearly weeps and Taekwoon doesn’t fully understand why he’s acting like this.

And Taekwoon doesn’t know how to respond, he hasn’t formed words to explain his feelings quite yet. He stares at Hongbin as he thinks about how he’ll forever be known as Jung Taekwoon: the man who gave up Seo Eunha: the most beautiful and amazing woman because he just couldn’t handle it. He can’t handle what her life has become, he can’t handle the lack of unfulfilling intimacy they share anymore, and he can’t deal with the unhappiness it all causes him, the loneliness, the reoccurring thoughts that he can’t escape, and holes in his heart to grow larger and larger by the day.

And it hits him how he’s been seeing Eunha smile less, her embraces longer and tighter, and her kisses stronger than ever as if she’s putting all her energy in them to not let him get too far away. His mouth falls open as his mind goes over everything he’s been saying and thinking, and the words spill out exactly how he’s thinking them. “I’m going to break her heart.”

The younger remains silent.

“She wants to marry me.”

Hongbin finally snickers slightly, sharply adding, “I wanted you to marry her.”

“I know, Hongbin, I know.” He really does, and it almost painful to admit. “But this… This can’t happen. I can’t continue on as we have been,” he lowers his head against the table.

“Mm,” Hongbin hums in response.

There’s a pause that makes Taekwoon very aware of his surroundings. His body suddenly shivers and the ring of Hongbin placing his glass back against the table is loud to his ears.

“Why are you so obsessed with everyone getting married?” He asks without picking his head up.

Hongbin responds quickly anyway. Simply stating, “Because I have never seen Hakyeon happier.” Taekwoon glances up at him without saying anything. The younger continues. “Is it so bad that I want all of us so happy that we forgot our lives have been that bad?”

“No,” Taekwoon starts, smiling at the thought while now looking up at the wooden ceiling of the bar. “I used to want everyone to get so wasted that they were actually happy,” he sneers into another sip.

“Didn’t we all?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a stillness in the atmosphere that’s almost relaxing. Taekwoon’s staring off into space and he can feel Hongbin doing the same.

“It’s sad,” the younger starts, “I don’t think I’ll get married.”

“I’m not sure if I ever will either.”

“Hah,” Hongbin cheers unusually loud, finally looking over at Taekwoon again with a grin. “Well look at us. World champions at normal life.”

Taekwoon can’t help but mimic his smile. “We haven’t been normal for a long time.”

Hongbin clinks his glass against Taekwoon’s before downing the remainder in a single shot.

 

“I’ll talk to my reps,” Hongbin says softly almost a half an hour later. They had both zoned out in their own worlds, intoxicated and relaxed, yet still full of thought. Kind of like how they used to drink together back in their later Vixx days.

“About?” Taekwoon asks curiously.

His eyes are stern and gaze serious as he looks down at the copper liquid in his already third glass. “About moving in with you.”

“Really?” Taekwoon perks quickly, surprised and excited at the same time.

Hongbin nods his head slightly. “Yeah, but you are aware I attract many people. Fans will follow me. This won’t remain a secret.”

“That’s fine. Eunha’s fans do the same thing,” he sighs, knowing full well this is a problem that he can’t ever seem to shake away.

“Most are shy girls. Some do get rowdy, though, especially the jealous boyfriends of my fans.”

 “Well, if they get too close, I’ll beat the shit out of them,” he says casually, lowering his voice slightly to make a point.

And Hongbin gets it immediately. He looks over at Taekwoon, jaw dropped with his lips curved up. “Really now? You know, that sounds a lot like someone we both know.”

They smile at one another for another moment and Taekwoon feels a warm happiness in his chest. Unlike the other members, he and Hongbin have never changed throughout the years. He’s not sure what exactly he wants right now, but he finds an easy comfort with the younger that he has never fully appreciated until recently. And he knows with whatever happens, at least with Hongbin, he won’t be alone.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Taekwoon picks at his nails while Eunha settles down on his armchair in the living room. Her eyes are curious and tired looking, like she’s fighting sleep even now, which is still quite possible. Taekwoon has waited too long to approach her about this. He’s thought about every detail, every word he wants to express over and over again in his mind for weeks. Eunha will be leaving for Taiwan in four days and he can’t hold this off any longer. He’s tried convincing himself this is a good time since she won’t have the opportunity to be close to him for over a month, and that might help with the healing on both sides, but it doesn’t make any of this any easier.

She looks so little on his large recliner and he’s not sure he’ll ever forget the image of it. He’s not sure he’ll ever forget any of the images with her. This already hurts.

“What’s going on?” She asks softly, innocently, and Taekwoon prolongs a hold to preserve her smile for at least another moment.

His head drops as he takes a large breath. It doesn’t feel satisfying in his lungs, but he goes with it knowing he can’t go back. He needs this to happen. So he musters up all the strength he can from his pained chest, pushing and pushing until his head hurts from it all, and utters the words he’s never wanted to hear himself say. “Eunha, I think—no, I… I want us to break up.”

Her entire expression drops in an instant, red lips fall into a frown, and the silence between them has never felt so loud as the drowned atmosphere buzzes achingly against the drums of their ears. He glances back up towards Eunha, looking directly into her eyes to take away any doubt she might have regarding his words. This isn’t a joke and he needs her to understand that immediately.

The silence doesn’t break. She doesn’t say anything as she gazes almost soullessly at him. The light causes her glossy eyes to sparkle and it doesn’t take much longer before tears fall one by one down her cheeks.

Taekwoon takes a seat on the couch after a few minutes of idle standing. His legs have gotten weak and his heartbeats echo so loudly within his head that he needs to rest. Eunha stares off to the side with her lips parted and breaths mixed with soft sobs. Todd Cat comes between them happily, his tail up with innocence, like he has no idea what’s really going on. Eunha smiles at him momentarily as he noses at her hand curiously.

“Who is she?” She asks suddenly, sadly, frowning as Todd Cat trots away and back towards the kitchen. “I know you’ve had so much free time while I work.”

Taekwoon’s initially shocked by that and his focus returns to her heavy eyes. “I have never cheated on you.”

“Of course not,” she cries out like she already knows that’s true. “Then what? What went wrong? What did I do? How can I fix this?” Her makeup runs, yet she still looks so pretty to Taekwoon.

It’s a long evening where he talks a lot, tries to explain without giving everything away, tries to make everything the least painful he can, but he’s not even sure if the last one is possible. He tells her about his loneliness, how he loses himself, and how living has been much more difficult lately. About how he spends his hours wanting her with him and how consuming it all is, how debilitating it has grown to be, and how he can’t seem to do anything about it. How he doesn’t want to stop her from living her life just because he’s struggling with his own.

“It’s just… So hard on me,” he says with the lump in his throat becoming conflicting. He feels as if he’s going to cry right along with her.

 

“You know, I noticed it,” she speaks after almost an hour of Taekwoon’s voice solely filling the room. “You’re drinking so much more often now.  I mean, Hongbin’s with you so often—he’s influencing you, he must be. He brings alcohol right to your door.” Her tone darkens and she shakily stands up, like the shock has already turned to emotional despair.

Taekwoon glances up at her looming before him, shaking his head slowly. “Hongbin has never forced me to drink.”

“Maybe not, but Taekwoon… Taekwoon…,” she weeps his name the second time. “You never used to drink like this. I have very few memories where you have.” Her chin trembles as she bites her bottom lip. “Are you just… That unhappy these days?”

Taekwoon gazes coldly at her, his face falling slightly before he catches his breath, uneven and lacking. And following a sudden inhale, he admits, “Yes.”

 

Eunha insists they go to bed together for one final night, but Taekwoon thinks it’s too cruel for both of them. He lies on the couch, rolled in his mother’s blue blanket that only smells like Hongbin at this point, and lets Eunha have his bed since it’s too late for her to waste time going back home. She doesn’t sleep there, anyway. He wakes up in the middle of the night to see her curled up on the chair across from him again. They stare at one another in the dark, sleepless and wordlessly, before Taekwoon shuts his eyes again.

Nothing feels real the next morning as she holds him tightly, not wanting to let go, not wanting this to be the end. He runs his fingers through her hair instinctively. He doesn’t want to be too close and intimate, but he can’t help it when they’re both hurting so badly and he’s the one who has caused it. “Don’t cry,” he whispers when she begins to tremble again. 

“Please don’t leave me…,” she whimpers weakly against him, words honest and bone chilling. Taekwoon has to look up and gasp to keep himself calm. “Please, please, please—”

“Eunha,” he tries.

“I’ll drop out of this drama. There’s still time. I can—”

Taekwoon’s hands cradle her small face. She’s breaking. “You already signed the contract. You’ve been so excited about this since the first day you were approached about it. You’ll get to see Taiwan, you’ll learn and grow, and have so much fun that you won’t ever regret your decision. _You’re going to be okay_ ,” he ends with as much emphasis on the last sentence as he can.

She doesn’t stop crying and Taekwoon swears his heart breaks right along with hers. He might be the biggest fucking idiot for letting her go, but he can’t take it back now. He knows this is best for both of them in the long run. And he has to keep telling himself that, repeating it forcibly over and over and over again for his own sake as she steps back out of the embrace, ending their contact for what is possibly the final time. Her smile is sad, yet absolutely beautiful, and as she gathers her keys and purse she glances back at him, swallowing her sorrow momentarily, and states, “ _I want you to be okay, too_.”

Taekwoon sinks to the floor once she leaves.

 

 

Eunha comes back the next day to get her things, leaving his house emptier than he has ever had it before. Her manager keeps glaring at him as she helps Eunha carry the bags out and Taekwoon hates every moment of it.

It only takes one more day before it’s nationwide news. A reporter interviewed Eunha and asked how she and Taekwoon are going to fair while she’s away filming and she responded quietly with, “Actually, we recently have broken up.” And Taekwoon’s so relieved she left it at that.

His phone won’t stop ringing and he told his manager he’s not accepting any offers right now. He’s spotted a few journalists hanging around outside of his building so he hasn’t left. He hasn’t moved from his bed in hours.

Because nothing feels right anymore. He has paced throughout the rooms of his house purposely focusing on the areas where Eunha’s stuff used to be. Her shoes are no longer piled by the front door, extra clothes aren’t neatly folded in his closet for her, and his bathroom echoes from the lack of towels and bottles in the shower or by the sink. He can’t bear to look anymore. Hongbin sends him a snapshot showing he and Eunha are at the top of the internet searches and he groans before dialing the younger’s number.

“Need me to come save you?” He only laughs and Taekwoon wishes he wouldn’t.

Hongbin arrives an hour later and they sneak out through the back garage. Taekwoon sighs in the passenger seat, shutting his eyes and finally feeling relaxed for the first time in a few days. Eunha leaves for Taiwan tomorrow and he already cannot wait for all of this to pass.

Hongbin is overly amused by it all. “You are all over the news!” he exclaims while pulling onto the highway towards the city. “Oh, and Hakyeon hyung is upset you won’t pick up your phone. I told him to leave you alone for now, but yeah… He wants to talk to you at some point.”

“Where are we going?” He asks softly, ignoring the part about Hakyeon—he’ll deal with him later.

“My place.” Hongbin’s stern about that, as if he figures Taekwoon might object. He doesn’t though, but he thinks about it. He thinks about how even the idea of going to a club sounds good at the moment.

Hongbin’s condo is much more spacious than his own. There are multiple rooms, a much larger kitchen, and it’s filled with all of the latest, most expensive technology that’s out there. It’s almost like a new world, but it suits Hongbin so well that none of it is shocking. It’s homey and has a clean scent that seems to be a signature to the younger. The walls are painted a deep caramel while the lights brighten it back up with the contrast of his white furniture. Unlike Taekwoon, he doesn’t have any pets, but like Taekwoon, he doesn’t have many guests. 

“I love confusing the staff, you know?” Hongbin starts as Taekwoon sits on the edge of his neatly made bed. “I have never seen them more baffled about anything when I told them I wanted to live with you.”

Taekwoon smiles at the thought. It’s always amusing and he’s so glad Hongbin’s not asking him any questions right now. “What did they say?”

“They just stared at me and asked ‘Why?’” he giggles a little bit while going through his closet, pulling random articles out before putting them back. “I just said I wanted to. I really didn’t give them much of a choice.”

“Are they okay with it?” Taekwoon asks curiously, holding back on how desperately he wants to dig for a finite answer—and quick.

“Who knows—hey, how much closet space do you have for me? I know I can’t bring all of this, but I want to leave as much as possible with you.”

Hongbin agrees to not sell his place, but plans to stay with Taekwoon for the majority of the nights unless it’s impossible due to work. He tells Taekwoon about how he thinks it will be good for him. For both of them, really. A nice change outside of the city, quiet and relaxing, like everything Taekwoon enjoys about living where he does.

They talk for the remainder of the night and at some point Taekwoon forgets everything else going on in his life. He doesn’t think about Eunha, he doesn’t relate anything back to Wonsik, and he already feels freer. The two of them go through Hongbin’s clothes and Taekwoon tells him to just bring his winter attire and things he wouldn’t mind getting cat hair on for now. Hongbin puts everything aside, not quite yet ready to pack, but the preparations are enough for the two of them to get excited over it all. And Taekwoon can’t wait. He sleeps in Hongbin’s guest bedroom since, unlike in his house, Hongbin’s actually got one.

 

 

“But… Why?” Hakyeon asks the two of them sitting across from him at a coffee shop the next morning. Taekwoon knew he couldn’t avoid Hakyeon for long, so Hongbin set this little meeting up. Hakyeon appears just as confused about them moving in together as everyone else, it seems.

“His cat is cute,” Hongbin says simply with a shrug while sipping slowly at his hot latte. Taekwoon nods.

Hakyeon’s hands fall against the table as he furrows his eyebrows while quickly shifting his gaze towards Taekwoon. “This is all so fast… Are you okay? I mean, this just happened.”

Taekwoon isn’t sure how to answer that since a yes or a no would both be lies. “Hongbin and I talked about this weeks ago. This isn’t a compulsive decision.” At least he can ensure Hakyeon that.

“What about Eunha?” He asks and Taekwoon feels his body wince at the sound of her name.

“We broke up,” Taekwoon speaks softly. “She’s on her way to Taiwan now as it is.”

Hakyeon frowns, leaning his cheek against his knuckles, and Taekwoon can’t look away from his wedding ring. “I don’t understand any of this. Taekwoon, just let me know you’re alright.”

He freezes up again, glancing to the side at Hongbin momentarily for help, but quickly realizing he doesn’t know the full story either. The younger’s eyes widen and he scrunches his face as they share a look. “I’m trying to be,” he goes with.

The eldest sighs. “I don’t know what happened between you and Eunha, but things will get better. You’ll meet someone else. Just… Don’t give up,” he says, eyes drawing back over towards Hongbin by the end of it.

Taekwoon barely drinks much of his coffee by the time they get ready to leave. There’s a small crowd of people outside the shop waiting for them and Hakyeon links his arm with Taekwoon’s as they all leave together. He bites his lip while his fingers grasp the elder’s wrist tightly. It feels as if he doesn’t exist even when all attention is on him. He’ll never get used to this, he’ll never get over the anxiety of it all, he’ll never be able to walk comfortably through it like Hakyeon and Hongbin are beside him. He leaves with Hakyeon this time as Hongbin waves goodbye to go to some sort of read through he’s got. He told Taekwoon earlier, but he can’t remember at the moment.

“You’re worrying me,” Hakyeon speaks gently once they’re blocks away. “Hongbin always worries me, but now the two of you are doing it together. Please come to me if you need anything or just want to talk things out.” He’s serious even though his eyes stay exclusively on the road. “I wish you would have told me. I found out from the news and I just wanted to be there for you if you needed me, but I couldn’t even get in contact with you. You know I hate that.” He sighs, probably realizing that he might be asking too much based on his own emotions entirely. His tone lifts with his next question. “You know what I did with Wonsik when he didn’t answer my calls, right?”

Taekwoon doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to talk about Wonsik right now.

Hakyeon glances at him this time with an encouraging smile lingering. “Well, just know he doesn’t do that with me anymore. I have my ways.”

Taekwoon only has the capability to make a mental note of that right now. “I’m sorry,” he breathes out as Hakyeon turns his attention back towards driving. “It’s been a rough few months for me, but I think I made the right decision with this.”

That seems to catch Hakyeon off guard because he immediately asks, sounding shocked, “You broke up with her?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Taekwoon,” he releases a heavy sigh.

 

 

Another week passes and other news stories steal people’s interest away from Taekwoon and Eunha enough for things to quiet down. It’s relieving when he can go to the local market to pick up groceries and not have anyone bother him again. He hasn’t spent much time at home in order to avoid the pain. And he hasn’t spoken with Hongbin since the time with Hakyeon, but he thinks about him a lot. He thinks about how he’s going to fill all the empty spaces Eunha left in his house with things and how he’s going to be with him more than he has been since Vixx. It’s something Taekwoon’s very eager about.

Hongbin shows up that night with a few boxes packed with necessities: shampoos, pajamas, makeup, and other various toiletries that quickly fill up the shelves in Taekwoon’s bathroom and ease his mind. They decide to leave the closet for another day. Today, Hongbin stares at Taekwoon’s bed with a concerned look across his face. It’s a decently sized bed. Not big, but certainly large enough for two people to sleep comfortably together on.

“You’ve _slept_ with women on that bed,” Hongbin says flatly, obviously finding some sort of problem with it.

“One woman,” Taekwoon stresses. Even if Hongbin wants his own bed, there’s not enough space to fit another one. It’s really their only option unless Taekwoon downsizes his own to free up room for two smaller ones—which he absolutely refuses to do.

“How often do you wash your sheets?” He follows up with, questioning like a test Taekwoon’s not sure he’s going to pass.

And Taekwoon has to think about that one for a second. “Like once a month?”

Hongbin looks completely repulsed by his response. “No—no. If we’re going to share this bed that cannot happen. Once a week is preferred… Two weeks max.” Taekwoon can’t help but laugh a little.

Hongbin doesn’t stay the night, but he promises he’ll return tomorrow with more stuff and that causes Taekwoon to smile a little bit. He’s not going to be so alone tomorrow.

 

 

“Merry Christmas,” Hongbin says softly with a smile, holding a small white and red cake in the doorway when Taekwoon returns home from filming a show through all the daytime hours.

He has nearly forgotten, but his family wouldn’t allow that. Even during the recording he’s been at for the majority of the day, he’s gotten calls from his family members and video messages from both Hakyeon and Jaehwan as reminders. It’s not that major of a holiday to him, or anyone else really, but the messages are nice little gifts in themselves.

But it’s still a little odd—coming home to Hongbin there almost every night. It’s been two and a half weeks since he’s officially moved in and Taekwoon feels as if his home has gotten a warmer aura ever since. He hadn’t expected Hongbin to be there so much, but he has been since his most recent drama wrapped filming, and Taekwoon has no real reason to complain. His lips curve to match the younger’s. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”

“And just think, it’s almost New Year’s. What are you now, thirty-four, huh?” Hongbin talks as Taekwoon hangs his coat back up in the closet. “You’re getting there.”

“Getting where?” Taekwoon snaps with a low groan, already knowing where this is going.

Hongbin puts the cake down on the counter as a precaution, Taekwoon notes. He steps back, grinning, “Old.”

It’s rough how Taekwoon grabs the fabric of his red night shirt, pulling the younger closer as his body curls together and socks slide against the floor in protest. He’s laughing loudly, trying to say words that Taekwoon can’t fully make out as he slams Hongbin over into the recliner, sitting on him with his weight as the seat rocks back and forth, and moving his fingers to tickle the younger’s sides.

Hongbin’s hitting his shoulder _hard_ , so he stops and walks back towards the cake like nothing ever even happened. Hongbin plays along, smirking back as usual while catching his breath and running his hands down to smooth the legs of his pants. “So are we going to eat it or just stare at it? I got the one with cute trees on it and I asked them to put a cat on it for Todd Cat, but I didn’t specify a color so that’s why he’s gray. Close enough, though, right?”

The cake is cute. Taekwoon licks some frosting off his finger as Hongbin joins him in the kitchen to cut it. “Thank you,” he says calmly.

“I couldn’t find your decorations. You have too many cabinets with too few things in them,” Hongbin points out while grabbing a couple plates. “I thought we should at least hang a few things up.”

Taekwoon doesn’t tell him that his decorations are long gone. He never expected to celebrate Christmas now that Eunha’s gone, so he threw them out. He thinks Hongbin will just have to adjust.

“Did you get anything from Jaehwan hyung?” Hongbin asks while sitting patiently with his hands folded in his lap at Taekwoon’s small table in the kitchen. “He sent me a picture of a present that he said I won’t get until he comes back. And who knows when that will be. Like, how can he do that to me? I’m curious now.” He pouts.

“Yeah,” Taekwoon takes the other seat across from him, placing a piece of cake down in front of the younger. “He and Hakyeon sent me videos.”

“I’m sure Sanghyuk will say something next time he gets a day off,” he says simply, already with a mouthful. “Wonsik?”

Taekwoon scoffs slightly and Hongbin gets the hint.

They decide on wine that night. Red and bitter and expensive—one Hongbin had picked up prior for the two of them. The bottle is big, but not too big for them to not get through in one night. So they do, they drink every last drop until the glass is fully transparent against the dim chandelier above the table. Taekwoon’s not sure on the ratio of who drank how much, but he knows he feels good, that he’s smiling at Hongbin like he really means it, like he’s genuinely happy in the moment.

They crawl into bed together. The sheets still aren’t broken in and softened by use since Hongbin insisted on buying new ones, but they are warm and pleasant to the touch still. He checks his phone as the younger stretches out on his side. “Oh,” he must have subconsciously released because Hongbin immediately asks, “What?”

“I got a message from—”

“Who? Wonsik?” The bed shakes with Hongbin’s movements as he rolls to face Taekwoon again.

He feels his expression drop at that. “Eunha.”

“Ah, well,” Hongbin starts, seeming a lot less interested now, “it hasn’t been that long, I guess. Just say thank you, Merry Christmas, and move on.”

So he listens to Hongbin even though he still feels a quiet ache, doing just that, and they shut the lights out. Taekwoon’s mood takes an immediate turn as he lies down, nuzzling his face into his pillow. Not everything has changed the way he wanted them to. Hongbin falls asleep quickly, and Taekwoon can always tell when he does. Even after just a short time, he has already grown used to having Hongbin sleeping beside him. His snoring is soft enough to still be cute, yet noticeable enough to not resemble Eunha at all.

Sharing a bed with Hongbin does have a downside though. Often he has found himself looking over at the younger, wishing he were someone he could hold, could latch onto his warmth and find comfort within it. He’s fearful, though, remembering what Wonsik had once said about Hongbin probably not letting even him, and not nearly drunk enough to try for himself now. The thoughts make him miss Eunha, almost make him regret, almost make him feel alone even when Hongbin is right there. He just wants someone—a bit like how Wonsik was in the past—no, he’s almost exactly like that now and it’s alarming even to himself. He turns over to face Hongbin again and the younger is sleeping too peacefully for Taekwoon to even consider disturbing. He curls his limbs up close and tries, desperately tries, to mimic Hongbin’s current, calm setting.

 

Most nights Hongbin doesn’t come home until the early morning hours. Taekwoon never hears him, though. He’ll fall asleep alone and wake with Hongbin passed out and disheveled beside him. There are times he’ll make extra coffee, but Hongbin rarely drinks it. He finds himself cooking a lot more, kind of like how he once did with Eunha years ago—before when she actually had time. He’s got a second mouth to feed again and seeing Hongbin happily consume whatever is placed in front of him is quite rewarding in its own way. Also, knowing Hongbin is benefiting from this arrangement makes him feel a little bit better about it all.

There are times he can’t tell if Hongbin being with him is actually helping him, though. He thinks a lot about what Eunha had said concerning his more recent drinking habits as Hongbin opens a bag containing a particularly fancy bottle of scotch he received as a gift after meeting with the CEO of some important car company. Apparently they are looking to recruit him for ads and marketing.

“Hyung, drink this with me?” He asks with slight smile, spinning the bottle around to attempt to read the foreign label.

So he does since saying no to Hongbin is not something he has ever gotten used to. He’d rather do that than go out—not like they have been going out much, anyway. His mind can’t decide if it’s a good thing or not. It almost makes him feel trapped, less normal, and more secluded than ever, but Hongbin doesn’t seem to mind, so he doesn’t object.

They sit on his black couch in the living room, pouring the amber hued liquid into his crystal glasses. He considers asking Hongbin what the occasion is this time, or more particularly, what has made him sad today, but he holds it back. The reason really doesn’t matter anyway and Taekwoon always feels ready for a drink these days. Hongbin’s already drinking like he wants to forget the world, so Taekwoon picks up his glass and joins him.

 

“They yelled at me a lot today,” Hongbin dives into another story during their third glasses. “They keep saying I’m contractually obligated to take this movie role, but that can’t be true. They can’t just make those decisions for me. I wouldn’t have signed the fucking piece of paper if that were in it. They’re just liars and I’m sick of it. I’m so sick of them.”

Taekwoon hums, tapping his finger against his stomach as he leans back into the cushions. “How much time do you have left before it expires?”

“The end of next year. And, you know,” Hongbin crawls against the couch over to Taekwoon, obviously riled up, “I don’t think I’m going to renew next time. Fuck this. Fuck them.”

Hongbin’s said this in the past before, yet he has never gone through with it. “You’ll break Hakyeon’s heart if you leave,” Taekwoon adds while watching the younger settle beside him.

“Yeah, well, I break a lot of hearts,” he huffs and reaches for his cup again.

That makes Taekwoon laugh harder than he expects, but half of it might just be due to the scotch. “I do, too. Well, one in particular.” That comment only slips out _because_ of the scotch—they rarely speak about Eunha anymore because Taekwoon hates it.

It brings a grin to Hongbin’s face. “And that is why we are here, living together, drinking together, and alone together.”

They gaze at one another and Taekwoon notices how Hongbin’s already wavering from the alcohol. His smile fades when Taekwoon remains silent, not intentionally, but because he’s not sure how he feels about fully understanding their reality in all of this.

Hongbin turns away, his eyes staring intently at the black television screen. His voice is soft, almost like a whisper, as he proposes the thought, “Run away with me.”

“Where?” Taekwoon follows instantly, lowering his voice just as much to match Hongbin’s tone.

“I don’t know. Northern Europe, maybe. Somewhere beautiful we can escape to.”

Taekwoon slides his arm around Hongbin’s shoulder, gently urging him closer, and he comes easily, leaning his body against his side. He’s warm, so warm and so sad and so inebriated that Taekwoon can’t take any of his words seriously. His own influenced brain doesn’t have the capacity right now to play along with another one of Hongbin’s scenarios. It’s impossible, anyway. He won’t leave and neither will Hongbin—they both know that.

Carefully, he takes Hongbin’s glass and places it beside his on the table. Hongbin doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t say anything as Taekwoon leans his cheek against his soft hair.

“I’m fucked,” Hongbin whimpers weakly, like he has finally broken down and come to his own conclusion within the whirlwind of his feelings.

It hurts. He hates witnessing Hongbin’s thick skin crinkle and crack and seeing his vulnerability shine so brightly through it all. But he’s all too aware of it, all too aware of his own, of his blood suddenly rushing, of the heat that’s radiating off the human body beside him. And he can’t fight it. Not like this. Not under these circumstances.

His lips press softly against Hongbin’s cheek, leaving one, two, three small pecks to his skin. The younger turns to gaze up towards him, eyes half-lidded and completely dazed, but he doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t speak as Taekwoon’s hand runs from his shoulder to the nap of his neck, holding him steadily as he brushes their noses together, letting their fringe intermingle between them. Hongbin’s breath is hot against his face, the thin air separating them almost _intoxicating_ , and he shuts his eyes, letting his lips lightly trace the younger’s. He moves them slowly, kissing, and kissing, and kissing, until Hongbin finally parts his lips enough for his tongue to work them open.

Taekwoon’s entire body feels good, like the human contact is something he has never fully quite figure out how much he truly _craves_. Hongbin releases a sequence of short, shaky moans as he trembles in Taekwoon’s hold. “Hyung—I—,” he begins, fumbling his words once they part, his hand flat against Taekwoon’s chest, but he doesn’t say anything else, like he can’t seem to find his words.

So Taekwoon talks instead, his words forming before his mind can even linger on them, curiosity and lust ultimately overpowering all of his other senses as he asks, “When was the last time you’ve shared a kiss like that?”

Hongbin just stares at him, his body completely slack, like he has no energy and is only being supported by Taekwoon at this point. “I—uh—don’t… I don’t remember,” he ends up stammering out while never breaking eye contact even when his face reveals nothing but uncertainty.

He shifts slightly, sitting up straight against the couch, and Taekwoon mirrors his movements to not break the brittle intensity of the situation that he has fallen immensely deep into already. Hongbin looks as if he could cry at any moment, but Taekwoon knows enough that it takes a lot more than that to make his tears fall. He doesn’t really want that to happen, anyway, but sometimes he wishes Hongbin would just let it all out instead of suppressing it with an abundance of alcohol. So he leans in again, moving his hands to softly caress Hongbin’s face. He feels small in his hold and Hongbin releases another shaky exhale as he reaches to curl his fingers around Taekwoon’s wrists. “Again,” he commands in another whisper, as if this is something he can’t seem to verbalize any louder.

So Taekwoon does. He kisses him harder this time and Hongbin’s noises are all new to his ears. They’re sad, desperate, uneasy, and yet he feels as if he understands them all; as if he can hear Hongbin’s emotions loud and clear through them.

Hongbin keeps moving in closer, keeps pushing Taekwoon until he’s against the back cushion again and Hongbin’s knees are on both sides of his lap. “Bin—,” he says almost urgently as his heart rate picks up and his rational brain screams this is all going so fast for something he has no idea where the end result is heading. “—hold on for a second.”

Hongbin does, his expression soft and utterly destroyed at the same time, and Taekwoon manages to talk him into turning around, to sit in between his legs, and relax. Both of their breathing is erratic and Taekwoon takes note of how little Hongbin’s waist really is as he wraps his arms around him, pressing his back against his chest, and perching his chin on Hongbin’s sunken in shoulders.

He has to shake away the reactions his own body is making. Like how he’s thinking about how Hongbin’s skin would feel against his if they weren’t wearing clothes at the moment, or how much more comfortable he feels with someone against him, but he doesn’t want to think about that now.

“When was the last time someone held you like this?” He asks lowly into Hongbin’s neck.

Hongbin immediately tenses within his grasp and Taekwoon can feel every hitch and quiver the younger’s body makes. His arms tighten gently and he bends his legs around Hongbin to fully encircle him in the embrace. Within a few seconds, he’s trembling, hands gripping tightly at Taekwoon’s forearms as tears stream quickly down his smooth cheeks.

Taekwoon hasn’t witnessed him cry since their Vixx days. So he doesn’t let go.

 

He’s reminded of his imperfections in the morning when he wakes up as Hongbin sits on the opposite side of the bed, legs folded, and face down. “I don’t know if I should be angry with you or not,” he says quietly, voice soft and defeated, like he has been thinking about it all night. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Taekwoon’s head hurts, movements slow and fatigued, and even he wonders why he took such actions and why the words he said ever left his lips. “Forgive me,” he whispers, rolling his face into his arms.

“Are you into men or something?” Hongbin questions, as if he didn’t even hear Taekwoon’s plea at all. 

And that’s another reality Taekwoon hasn’t fully settled on an understanding of quite yet. He’s in too much pain to even think about it right now and the lack of a response has Hongbin repeating, “Are you?”

“I don’t know, Hongbin. I just don’t know,” he retaliates in a rougher tone than he wants, but he gets aggravated at the thought and irritated at Hongbin’s minimal patience.

He gazes between his arms at the younger whose eyes are dark and stern. Hongbin sighs, though, breaking their contact to look off towards the side. Taekwoon blinds himself against his pillow. There’s an ache in his gut and guilt and regret and he doesn’t know where to go from here. He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t know if Hongbin’s going to move out because of this, if he’s ever going to talk to him again, if he’s going to leave his life just like Wonsik did—

He shoots up, tossing the sheets to the side as he stumbles quickly to his feet. His world is faded and dizzy, but he knows his house layout well enough to get to the bathroom without trouble. His heaves are dry and excruciating, like needle points dragging against his already mistreated throat, and he cries out in pain. He didn’t eat much last night so nothing really comes up; nothing except the raw bile that drips from his lips as he gasps roughly into the bowl.

“Hyung…,” he hears vaguely through the unpleasant sounds of his own body trying to correct itself. His head spins and he feels as if he’s burning, sweating through his shirt, and finding no relief in the cold hand that’s pressed to his back. “Are you alright?”

Taekwoon doesn’t answer that, but he takes a cool towel Hongbin pushes in his hands and watches as he twists open a water bottle in front of him.

“Drink,” he orders, and Taekwoon is quick to adhere, taking large sips that fade the horrible, sour taste and grittiness left in his mouth. And it’s relieving, all of it: the water and the fact Hongbin hasn’t actually abandoned him quite yet.  

His feet somehow manage to shuffle himself back to bed and Hongbin tosses the cat on with him. Taekwoon pulls Todd Cat against his will until he’s by his side. “Hey, I have to get going soon. I’ll—I’ll be back later tonight so just rest, okay? We’ll talk then.”

Hongbin’s out the door within ten minutes and Taekwoon tries to fall back asleep, but his doorbell rings half an hour later. Hongbin must have ordered him food. He gets his wallet to pay, but the young deliveryman waves his hand, saying, “It’s already paid for.” Sometimes Taekwoon thinks Hongbin resembles an angel, especially when he opens the boxes and finds warm noodles inside.

 

It’s another one of those days where Taekwoon barely moves. He sleeps a lot, as if his body is still making up for all the hours he’s lost years ago, but it’s nice and draining at the same time. His head feels heavy, but most of the pain has subsided. The half empty bottle of scotch sits on the kitchen counter and he puts it away so he never has to look at it again—he’ll leave that one for Hongbin to finish off himself. Showering is his first real accomplishment of the day, but he’s not proud of himself for it. He’s not proud of anything he’s done within the last twenty-four hours, really.

His body jolts from the kitchen as he hears the beeping of his door lock being used go off. It’s been hours, but he feels as if he hasn’t had nearly enough time to compose his thoughts or at least dwell on them. He already knows Hongbin has.

The younger’s not smiling when he enters, placing his shoes neatly amongst the other pairs and stepping into now his own home. He seems to sigh in relief as they share a look. Hongbin appears tired.

“Hey,” Hongbin begins, joining him in the kitchen. “You look better.”

Taekwoon nods, slowly though, as to not upset is brain anymore. “Thank you for the food.”

“Ah,” he breathes out, like this was something he has already long forgotten about. “It’s no problem.”

Something about the air feels unnatural. Hongbin’s behavior is anxious and edgy. He’s not walking around, not curiously touching random things that have accumulated on the counter, _not talking_. He’s frowning. He’s sad.

“Do you want to talk now?” Taekwoon ultimately asks, hanging up the kitchen towel on a hook before taking a step forward.

He’s happy when Hongbin doesn’t flinch. “Yeah,” he replies softly.

 

They relocate back into the living room where all of this started in the first place. It’s cleaned up thanks to Taekwoon, but the memories are all still there. He sits on the couch and Hongbin opts to stand. His mind feels jittery, fingers folding together in his lap, as he remains attentive towards the younger as he speaks first.

“I realize a lot of what happened last night is my fault.” And that first sentence completely throws Taekwoon off. “Well, we’re both at fault, I guess. I—I just, was in the moment and I don’t think I fully understood what I was doing or saying.”

He pauses, spinning to look around, like even he needs to digest what just left his mouth. Taekwoon still can’t believe he’s blaming himself. “Hongbin, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think I like men,” the younger spews, like this is what has been freaking him out more than anything. “I’ve never once been attracted to a guy, hyung. I’m not attracted to you—that’s—ah, no… It’s just… I think I only acted that way because it’s—it’s been _so long_.”

Taekwoon braces his arms against the couch in attempt to stand. Hongbin’s already scaring him. “You were drunk, Hongbin. And as you said, it’s been so long since you’ve been with someone like that.”

Hongbin’s staring at him, his eyes full and alert, as he slowly says, “We were both drunk, but you—you initiated it. What, you must have thought I was Eunha, right?”

Taekwoon feels as if his energy has run out. He almost wishes Hongbin was correct, but he’s not. He shakes his head and Hongbin whimpers a little.

“Then what?”

Taekwoon holds it for a moment, trying his hardest to plan his words before just blurting things out this time. “It was a reflex… I kissed you because you were just so upset and I wanted to take your mind off of everything… And I held you because you were trembling.”

Hongbin steps around in a perfect box form, nodding, as if he’s trying to force himself to understand. “So… Like what you would have done with Eunha?”

Taekwoon’s lips part, but he doesn’t speak. He has never seen Eunha in such a lost and vulnerable position like that before. Wonsik, on the other hand, yes, so many times he couldn’t count even if he wanted to. And that realization has Taekwoon standing frozen.

“Hyung?” Hongbin encourages a response again cautiously as he lets his arms fall limply.

Taekwoon lifts his head up, looking at the ceiling before rolling back down to meet the younger’s gaze again. His face softens and he nearly smiles, as if he’s about to laugh, but he can’t seem to physically release any noise. _Last night he treated Hongbin like he would treat Wonsik._ He bites his lip, finding himself fidgety and panicked, on the edge of anger, before eventually scoffing out, “And you think you’re the one to blame? You think you’re the messed up one here?”

Hongbin blinks his large eyes and his expression reminds him of how Eunha would react to him sometimes. She’d be confused and blank, but here and now, Hongbin’s quickly flaring. There’s a scowl on his face—he’s getting angry—and that’s a point Eunha never actually got to.

“Stop acting like you’re the only one dealing with shit!” Hongbin yells, voice deep and harsh and chocked full of pent up emotions. “We all are. Constantly. Every single one of us has gone through hell and back.” He’s pacing forward again with his fists clenched at his sides. Taekwoon’s not really sure where he’s going with all of this, but he lets himself fall back against the couch to watch. “God, hyung, you’re infuriating sometimes, you know that? You know how we would catch Hakyeon with cigarettes a few times a year? Yeah, that’s all we _saw_ , but he’s struggled with smoking for years because the stress levels from all angles ate him away and he went towards desperate measures to stay afloat. You know this. You fucking know this, hyung. You were right there. He might be all happy and married now, but do you really think old habits die easily? Do you think he doesn’t look back and remember the nightmares of it all?”

His fists rest on his temples as he looks up at the ceiling. He’s so upset. “Jaehwan hyung had that pregnancy scare and became nearly dysfunctional for months until they were positive the girl was lying. He’s got trust issues just like I do because of that. Oh, and you remember how his parents rarely called to support him. I’m not even sure if they do at all now. He is alone most of the time… You think that doesn’t fuck him up at least a little bit?”

Even with all his rhetorical questions, he continues on. “Sanghyuk… He somehow managed to turn out better than the rest of us. He’s so smart and strong and willful and that’s why I leaned on him for so long. I stayed with him until he enlisted because he was just so full of joy and happiness while the rest of us sunk on our own. But remember, even he cried a lot. You saw that, too. He sobbed when he realized how difficult it was to get through schoolwork when you don’t even have time to sleep ninety percent of the time. He fought _so_ hard to achieve his goals, to get to where he is today. And now he’s terrified he’s going to come back from the army and be forgotten. He’s afraid of his future.”

He gets right in Taekwoon’s face for this one. “Wonsik. Wonsik, Wonsik, Kim Wonsik. He became an alcoholic—a miserable man who couldn’t seem to hold himself together for a few days without anything in his system. And when you left, hyung, it felt like Wonsik did too. He left and I never saw him, he secluded himself even when he wasn’t far away. It was like you and Hakyeon hyung left and his supports broke, causing him to completely collapse. He talked about you a lot, drunkenly and angrily, and he quickly distanced himself from all of us. I lost my best friend.”

“And me? Well, you know me. I’m scared of everything, scared of the unknown, scared of trust, but I put up my best front to face it. Money buys a lot, but it will never buy me freedom or happiness—trust me I’ve tried. I think about this shit constantly, daily, and no, it never goes away. You know that feeling when you stare into a crowd of fans who love you with all their hearts, and you smile, yet feel absolutely nothing but your own loneliness eat you away? No relief, no nothing? Yeah, hyung, that’s me.”

He’s almost panting at this point, but his eyes are sharp and concentrated on Taekwoon and only Taekwoon as he continues, “Then there’s you.”

“Me,” Taekwoon mouths in a soft whisper.

“Always reserved, always so fucking stubborn and firm with your decisions even when they make no sense to anyone else. You know, you didn’t even talk to Eunha about your issues with her before breaking it off. Hyung, I wanted to shake you and scream, ‘What the hell are you thinking?’ when you let her go that easily. You have this habit of keeping shit to yourself and it only hurts people. Like do you know ever since I moved in you’ve only mentioned Eunha maybe twice? I can’t even tell if you’re grieving or not anymore. I can’t tell what you’re thinking at all. But the fucked up thing is that I get it. I know exactly why you’re like that because I am, too. Because I have experienced a lot of the same shit you have… Because I am messed up just like you are. We are all fucked up and then we get into fucked up things together…” His voice trails, softly.

Taekwoon grabs his arm and pulls him in until he’s crawling beside him onto the couch. They sit there, close enough to feel one another’s warmth, but not enough to see each other’s faces in their peripheral.

“I am aware of all we have gone through,” Taekwoon admits in an unsteady exhale. “ _I am very aware,_ Hongbin. And I’m really sorry for what happened last night.”

There’s a lull, but it’s not quiet, not with Hongbin’s breathing and groaning and anger fizzling out like freshly cut wires.

“Maybe we need to stop drinking,” Hongbin says after a moment in a serious tone even though Taekwoon knows that won’t happen.

“Probably,” he agrees anyway.

There’s another one of their pauses and Taekwoon can sense their natural atmosphere slowly returning. Hongbin’s breaths have quieted down and the air feels thinner and easy within his lungs.

Hongbin is the first to interrupt their short serenity. “Can I ask you something?”

And it’s okay. Somehow Taekwoon feels light and alright. “Hm?”

“What happened between you and Wonsik?”

Of course he expected this to come out eventually. They glance at one another silently and Taekwoon can see the curiosity all over Hongbin’s face. He’s not scared, though. In fact, he can feel his emotions bubbling, ready to spill over about this, and that it will finally be alright if he allows them to. Because it’s Hongbin—and he loves Hongbin so much right now. He loves Hongbin for being with him, for staying with him, for helping him, for fighting with him instead of giving up, and it makes Taekwoon think maybe Hongbin deserves to know this. He probably does. “I haven’t seen him since Hakyeon’s wedding…”

“I don’t think you are fully aware how much he changed once you left. And I know it’s about you and not Hakyeon hyung because he was always talking about you like he was upset and angry and sad, but he would never tell me about it,” Hongbin adds in a thoughtful tone, digging for more than the few words Taekwoon started with.

“I… Didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you, but you seemed so normal about it that I figured you guys worked it out. You used to be so close, but you get so… Weird when we talk about him. Like, I just don’t understand your side at all.”

Taekwoon’s eyes close to the image of Hongbin’s somber expression and meaningful gaze. He hates how his voice wavers as he confesses, “ _I miss him so much._ ”

Hongbin hears it, though. “Should we call him?”

“What’s the point?” He asks hopelessly, blinking his eyes back open to find that Hongbin still hasn’t looked away. “He’s not going to pick up. He never does.”

The younger frowns, but doesn’t say anything to negate that statement. “Do you have any idea what happened?”

“He… Relied on me a lot. I do know he was upset I enlisted before I urgently needed to, but I wanted to follow Hakyeon and that’s when he applied…”

Hongbin nods, pointing a finger up like he understands that much. “Oh, like how you would take care of him when he was wasted?”

“Yeah.”

“You know, Sanghyuk tried after you left, but Wonsik only gawked and screamed so he gave up.” Hongbin shrugs with a miserable expression. “It nearly made Sanghyuk cry. He couldn’t handle it and he was so upset when Wonsik stopped talking to him afterwards that he went into a funk for a few weeks. Wonsik really…” He’s getting emotional again; his lips purse tightly while his eyes lower. “We let him go because it seemed to be what he wanted. When I do see him now, it’s never the same. He’s like a different person.” 

Taekwoon’s hurting again.

Hongbin’s voice is so light as he continues, as if they both are sharing the same feelings, “What did you do that worked? What did you do that held him together for so long?”

Taekwoon stops breathing and immediately feels his body panic from the sudden lack. His eyes widen as he looks directly into Hongbin’s foggy ones. “We would… Do what we did last night.” Hongbin’s eyebrows rise. “Often.”

“Get drunk or kiss one another?” Hongbin asks quickly to clarify.

Taekwoon feels an overwhelming hesitant pull in the back of his throat, like even if he’s accepted this needs to come out, his body still sees the information as a secret that’s fighting to be protected. “Both, really. We would drink—well, he did more, and then we would…  kiss and hold and touch one another until we fell asleep.”

He can’t read the shocked expression on Hongbin’s face, but he shuffles his body uncomfortably in anticipation. Hongbin seems to be putting pieces together in his mind as he takes his time, slowly verbalizing, “You two slept together a lot. Wait did yo—”

“It was never like that back then,” he corrects quickly, probably too quickly since the younger pulls a face.

There’s a silent lull for a few seconds, and Hongbin softly turns onto a tangent, asking, “Was it with me?”

“No.” Taekwoon glances down at his lap. He was not prepared for that question, but he’s thankful he knew the answer easily.

“Then what was it? With Wonsik, I mean.” Hongbin asks with a blank face.

“Loneliness mixed with drunkenness,” Taekwoon responds in the simplest way he can. And it’s sad, he thinks, hearing his own voice admit that. “And sadness.”

“Does Hakyeon hyung know about this?” The younger tilts his head with the question.

“I never told anyone.”

“How did I never find out?” Hongbin’s voice gets loud again, but not in an alarming way. His hands go up only to fall back down against his thighs. “But hah, you really have no idea how much more sense everything makes now. Really, everything. Like, you said ‘back then.’ Are those the thoughts you have been trying to run away from?”

His blood is rushing to his face. He feels hot and dizzy. _Maybe Hongbin really is the better one._

“Does this have to do with you leaving Eunha?” He continues.

Taekwoon nods hesitantly. He almost wants to hide, but Hongbin’s too quick with his responses that he feels stuck. He feels as if all of his secrets have spilled onto the floor and there’s no way to stop them.

“God, it’s like finding the missing link and everything is clear now,” the younger nearly laughs out and Taekwoon can’t understand how he finds humor in this. But he leans in a little again, asking, “Now, what is the real reason for me moving in?”

“That one was never a secret,” Taekwoon states honestly.

Hongbin keeps staring at him and it’s slowly making him feel even more exposed and vulnerable. The amount of questions are getting stressful so he places his hand gently on the younger’s knee in hopes he’ll get the hint that this is enough for one night. Exhaustion is suddenly hitting him hard.

Hongbin seems to get it; he sinks back against the cushions even when his gaze only lowers. But he asks one more question that leaves Taekwoon completely speechless and extremely aware of his own pulse.

“Can I kiss you again?”

He must have subconsciously nodded because Hongbin leans in after a moment, pressing his hand against Taekwoon’s thigh for support, as he easily shatters through his personal walls. Hongbin doesn’t waste any time, either. The kiss almost feels like a joke even though he’s positive Hongbin would never play like this. Their lips move together easily and yet Taekwoon still finds himself melting against him. It’s strange, though, when Taekwoon notices there’s something missing about it—something he can’t quite pinpoint. He just knows that Hongbin feels nice, and warm, and human.

 

 

‘Do you want to meet up? I would like to see you…’

Taekwoon notices himself staring blankly at his phone as he sits off to the side of a filming site. He’s only a guest, so he doesn’t have to do much. There’s just time to waste and he’s bored. It’s the first direct message he has gotten from Eunha since they broke up nearly two months ago. He scoffs at himself, questioning why his immediate desire is, yes, he would like to meet with her, when he knows he really shouldn’t.

Even within the short time, he feels as if so much has changed. His mind doesn’t linger on Eunha much anymore—not while he’s got Hongbin at least. But he’s not even sure what he would say when she asks, ‘How have you been?’ because, somehow, it all feels the same.

The only difference is that Hongbin sleeps beside him at night, Hongbin is the one that seems to be holding him steady, but Hongbin is also the one who makes him question himself the most. The more he thinks about it, the more he gets upset with himself, and the more he doesn’t think he’s helping anyone anymore. And he knows this because this is a situation he’s seen the end result of before.

He kisses Hongbin a lot and Hongbin kisses him a lot within the strange relationship they have formed. He holds the younger close at night as they press their bodies together in the center of the mattress. And Hongbin moans against him, satisfied with their actions and his company, but Taekwoon doesn’t feel as calm about it. He’s worried, but not enough to stop. It’s almost as if history is starting to repeat itself and Taekwoon is more than aware of it as time passes by.

Although, there are so many differences that give him hope that things won’t end the same.

They don’t always kiss while intoxicated even when Taekwoon prefers it, even when he feels much more comfortable and attentive with the alcohol surging through his bloodstream. Hongbin doesn’t seem to care either way—he just likes the attention, and Taekwoon’s willing to give it to him. It’s all subtle, lacking even, but all out of desperation. Hongbin doesn’t really touch him. Not that Taekwoon ever expected him to, but it often leaves him feeling emptier than before. He won’t complain, though, because what he has with Hongbin is better than not having him at all. It’s like their pieces work together, but don’t fit properly. Or as if he’s the one missing a piece. A small one, not enough to hinder his overall functions, but enough for things to never fully feel quite right.

So he continues allowing his eyes to graze over the light of his phone screen while wondering how he will be able to step around explaining all of this to Eunha. Even if he does manage, she’ll be able to read him anyway. And yet, he still wants to see her.

 

“Bin ah,” he calls once he enters through the front door of his house. Todd Cat stares at him from the hallway, but there isn’t any noise or other movements to pick up on. His bedroom door is closed, though.

He cracks the door open to see Hongbin sleeping quietly, curled in all of Taekwoon’s blankets, with headphones in his ears. He stares at the younger man for a moment. His features look so soft and relaxed that Taekwoon has a swelling urge to join him even when the rare winter afternoon sun shines brightly throughout the room.

Todd Cat follows him into the bathroom as he washes up and changes out of the uniform he wore for the shoot. He slips under the covers quickly, sliding an arm over Hongbin’s waist while pressing his forehead against his back. And Hongbin stirs, his warm hand resting atop Taekwoon’s in a way lovers probably would, but they are so far from that status that Taekwoon can’t even see a hint of a future for them like that.

Hongbin smells nice; his scent is always clean and never too strong. He’s thin, but still bigger than Eunha. Taekwoon takes note of how easy his breathing is right now, how relaxed he is, and how he could effortlessly stay for hours like this. If he thinks about it in that way, he enjoys the feelings more.

The younger eventually rolls around, allowing his headphones to fall out along the way, and faces Taekwoon so they gaze at one another tiredly. Taekwoon wonders what has made Hongbin exhausted today, but he doesn’t ask since it would just be a waste of words. Instead, he reaches out, swiping his thumb gently over the younger’s cheek, and watches as his eyes slowly shut in the process. He moves his hand up, brushing Hongbin’s fringe back out of his face. Hongbin’s got so much hair now that he’s been letting it grow out for this movie role he says he doesn’t want.

“Hyung, I want to sleep,” he groans out in a whine.

Taekwoon slowly pulls his hand back, tucking it between the pillow and his sheets, and feels what he can only call as disappointment spread throughout his body. He wanted to—at least—talk to Hongbin about the message from Eunha, but he now thinks maybe it’s best he refrains from that. Hongbin’s answer would most likely be ‘no’ and something along the lines of, ‘You’re crazy for even considering. You broke up with her!’

Yet he responds to Eunha as Hongbin turns away, making plans for the following day, and doesn’t ponder on it for much longer. His heart pitters an excited tune, but his mind keeps reminding him that it’s probably the wrong decision. Then again, those reminders have never really stopped him before.

 

He doesn’t regret it, though. Not when Eunha smiles at him, waving her hand in the air in a way that catches more than just his attention. She picked a restaurant closer to his home, outside Seoul, so thankfully, none of the older men and women around seem to care.

Her hair is longer, but cut in the front to shape her face perfectly, and she’s as beautiful as ever. Seeing her like this catches Taekwoon off guard; he really hasn’t kept up with her activities or has seen any recent photos to not be shocked by how different people change in just a couple months.

“Hey there,” her voice is light and airy as they stand outside the restaurant together. Everything feels surreal.

“Hello.” His smile comes easily, almost naturally.

They request a table in the back. It’s not exactly private, but the atmosphere of the restaurant isn’t that dense for him to be uncomfortable about it. There are a few people who glance at them, eyes gazing and necks reaching as people wonder who they are or where they have seen them before, but again, thankfully, no one approaches them.

“I got you something,” Eunha says as she pulls out a small box from her purse. “I picked it out for you in Taipei for Christmas.”

Taekwoon gives her a look and her smile saddens slightly. He doesn’t want to believe she bought him a gift even after they broke up and held onto it for this long, but it’s so characteristic of her that it’s not shocking. He just wishes she wouldn’t have. He has nothing in return, nothing he could possibly give her to lift her spirits right now.

“Please just take it. It’s not much,” she begs slightly as his frown grows.

Taekwoon hesitates, but eventually accepts it. Eunha sighs in relief, bringing her hands down to tap her nails in a light rhythm against the table. Slowly, with his eyes glancing back and forth between Eunha and the box, he pulls on the silver ribbon until it loosens. There’s a mug inside; a blue, ceramic mug with doodled on gold stars inside and out. Taekwoon doesn’t really get if there’s a meaning, but Eunha appears so happy that he doesn’t even know how to ask.

Thankfully, she explains anyway. “I thought it would remind you of the good times in Vixx. I hope when you use it, it will make you happy.”

Taekwoon nearly weeps as he places the mug back against the table. Eunha’s laughing in the background, her eyes curved and joyful, and somehow, things feel alright. “Eunha, thank you.”

“Of course,” she nods.

Their food arrives shortly, but Taekwoon doesn’t eat too much. His stomach feels funny, as if he’s more anxious than he’s allowing himself to feel. Eunha’s so… normal. The whole scene feels like how one of their old dates would go except this isn’t one. Taekwoon’s not really sure what this is even supposed to be. There’s a slight tension between them that he feels needs to be broken before they part, but he has no idea what needs to be said.

Again, Eunha takes care of that once they clear their plates. “Taekwoon, I’ve thought about this a lot,” she starts and Taekwoon reels on how she’s going to end that sentence. “I’ve had hoards of men approach me since our… announcement, I guess, and I’ve turned them all away.”

Somehow, Taekwoon feels relieved at that, but it doesn’t last when she continues.

“I still love you. So much you probably don’t even understand. The fact that you’re here with me right now makes me so happy that—that I’ve realized I don’t want to lose you from my life.”

Taekwoon focuses on the way her bracelets fall against her arm as she covers her mouth with her hand. Her voice wavers, eyes blink more and more often with each second, and Taekwoon finally feels some regret with his decision to see her today.

“I read Hongbin moved in with you once I left—there were so many pictures, so many sightings of you two together—and I don’t understand. It’s none of my business, but I can’t help but worry about you. I can’t help but think you two just sit there and drink yourselves silly together. And I… I still want to be there for you. I still want to be someone you can go to if you need advice or help. Taekwoon, I—I still want to be your friend.”

Taekwoon has to take a deep breath. Eunha’s holding herself together nicely, so he tries to mimic that, even if the remainder of his conscience feels as if it’s being painfully cut through. “I don’t think that’s fair, Eunha. Not to you. Not while you still love me the way you do.”

She releases a dry sob, as if she already knew his answer before the words ever left his mouth. “I’ll try my best. I want to be happy again.”

The way she says ‘again’ tears Taekwoon apart, but he agrees, “As will I.”

And she smiles, emotionally and gorgeously, and it makes Taekwoon believe that maybe one day it will all be possible. If she’s not going to give up, then neither should he. He thinks, maybe if he can still be friends with Eunha, things won’t ever be so bad. Because, deep down, he still truly loves her. Not in the way he once did, but in a way he also never wants to lose, in a way that still aches when he sees her unhappy or hurting.

“Are you happy?” She asks before they part. Taekwoon doesn’t respond, but he smiles. Smiles in a way Eunha will understand; a way that is almost flawless, believable to most, but Eunha is one of the few who know the real meaning. She laughs a little, returning the same look. “Next time, let’s be better.”

 

 

He really does try to be happy. Two nights later, in the kitchen, he holds Hongbin as tightly as he’ll let him. And the younger gets quiet. He always does, like he’s not sure what to ever say when they get like this. Taekwoon nuzzles into his neck, breathing in whatever relief he can gather without thinking too much about it.

Hongbin’s so much different than both Eunha and Wonsik that Taekwoon’s not sure how to categorize his traits. He acts too much on emotions and Taekwoon’s not very good at determining which ones are active. Some days he will come home moody and agitated and won’t approach Taekwoon at all and other days he will come up and lean on or grab at Taekwoon as a desperate, yet silent plea for attention. They don’t really have a system, but Taekwoon simplifies it by thinking it’s all based on how badly they need one another.

Hongbin asks a lot of questions following whatever they end up doing. Questions about Taekwoon, about Wonsik, about himself, about anything he can think of.

‘How long did you do this with Wonsik?’ _Years._

‘What do you think about when you kiss me?’ _I don’t._

‘Do you think we’re pathetic for doing this?’ _Maybe._

Taekwoon’s almost positive Hongbin doesn’t really like what they do together, but it doesn’t seem to stop him. Sometimes he looks even worse after Taekwoon kisses him gently, yet sometimes he’s the one holding Taekwoon’s face so they don’t stop. There’s no love, no romance, no real connection between the two of them that stands out like how his intimacy with Eunha would. And yet, it doesn’t seem to resemble what he and Wonsik would do, either.  

They don’t normally go to bed together like he would with Eunha and he doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night like he would with Wonsik. Hongbin never purposely calls out or shakes his shoulder to wake him, asking simply out of habit even when Taekwoon’s response was always the same.

“Hyung, can you just—”

“Yeah.”

Because he’s not Wonsik. What he has with Hongbin doesn’t feel as much of a pattern as it does a series of events.

So Taekwoon kisses him as he leans the younger back against the counter. And it feels good, fluttering within his chest and tingly up his spine as Hongbin’s hand actually hold onto him this time. Hongbin had been drinking before Taekwoon got to him, he knows, he can taste it on his lips, and it’s one of his favorite ways to kiss him. After months, he’s finally figured out why.

Because it reminds him of Wonsik, the way his breath tasted—strong and bittersweet—and Taekwoon can’t seem to get enough of it. He can’t seem to stop himself from holding the back of Hongbin’s neck as they mold their lips together. Hongbin groans against him in a way that reminds him who he’s really with, but still doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the way Taekwoon’s blood flows or the way his mind seems to blank. The younger’s grip on him tightens as he presses their chests together. Hongbin quivers slightly, but Taekwoon doesn’t pull back, he doesn’t stop his hips from jutting forward either.

“Hyung,” Hongbin sighs out, forcing their lips apart, but keeping the rest of them in one place. “My back hurts.”

“Sorry,” Taekwoon whispers, taking a step back to finally realize just how much he had been leaning on him.

Hongbin stands up straight, wiping his mouth with his knuckles, and immediately reaches for his drink. Taekwoon’s not sure what exactly he’s got, but it’s sweet, he knows that, and he likes it.

A few minutes later, he finds Hongbin laying on the bed comfortably, holding his phone before dropping it against the sheets. His body shivers slightly, cooling from the heat they had just minutes ago, but he’s also gotten used to Hongbin’s sudden cut offs that it only mildly irritates him these days.

They move on, it seems, and he goes through their closet to look for a warmer sweatshirt to slip on. But he immediately stops once he hears, “Should we have sex?” uttered out of the younger’s mouth.

Taekwoon turns around slowly, eyes widened, and jaw dropped. He doesn’t believe he heard that right even when his body feels as if it heard him loud and clear. “What?”

“Should we?” He questions again and Taekwoon doesn’t even know what to say. “You never slept with Wonsik, right? So why not with me?”

“Hongbin,” he starts quickly, not really sure where he needs or wants to go with this. Hongbin has never let him touch below the neck, let alone below the waist. He nearly feels dizzy just thinking about it all. “Are you insane?”

“No?” Hongbin almost sounds offended. “We make out like every other day, so why not?”

He can’t tell if Hongbin’s joking or not, if this is another one of his mind games or if he’s serious, so he decides to play along to see where this will end up. “When was the last time you h—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that question,” he snaps, sitting up and slamming his hands against the mattress to make a scene.

Taekwoon only laughs, though, and Hongbin grabs his wrist, pulling him until he’s stammering onto the bed. Hongbin’s eyes are concentrated as he guides him onto his back and hovers above him. “I think I could do this.”

Taekwoon stares up directly at the younger. “There’s a lot that goes into it for guys. It’s not as easy,” he says almost too simply within the complex moment.

Hongbin rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Of course you would know. You’re the one who may or may not like men, remember?”

They’ve discussed this before after a previous late night of making out on the couch. They were sober and aware and Hongbin, like usual, stated his take on all of this, saying it’s all trust, that he only does this with Taekwoon because he knows Taekwoon won’t betray him, won’t hurt him. Hongbin can relax for a little, can have something physical with someone to decompress with after a frustrating day.

There was another time he told Taekwoon his dreams as they lied together under the warm covers of their bed. Hongbin wants to get married, like Hakyeon, and settle, have kids even—two boys and a girl specifically. He wants to be with a woman, ideally, one that will love him unconditionally, but Taekwoon knows that’s a deeply rooted struggle for him. So he’ll look at Taekwoon and kiss him, and somehow, they often feel sad, as if he’s frustrated with himself that he can’t seem to build up the strength to find what he truly wants and Taekwoon is the next easiest thing. They often feel close to how Wonsik would kiss him, but not quite the same. Hongbin doesn’t want to be with Taekwoon forever and they both know that. He won’t ever fully be happy with Taekwoon.

Taekwoon’s still not sure about himself, with what he wants, so he frowns at that. “You’re the one who _wants_ to have sex with me.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hongbin crawls around, lifting Taekwoon’s legs to bend them off to the sides. And it hurts, the fabric of his pants are tight and his own flexibility has greatly decreased over the years. He groans, but Hongbin ignores him as he leans himself in between to hold directly above Taekwoon.

Taekwoon watches him carefully to see just how far Hongbin’s willing to go, but at the same time, he can’t help his body from reacting. His thighs feel warm pressing against Hongbin’s waist and he almost wants to close his eyes and just let whatever happens happen.

Nothing does, though, because he knows Hongbin’s just drunk, just desperate, and definitely not going to go through with this. His heart rate doesn’t slow, but he wraps his arms around the younger’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. It’s heated and sloppy, and Taekwoon rolls his hips up against Hongbin’s in a way feels nice for him, but simultaneously ruins it for Hongbin.

“Uh—,” he pulls back up, flustered and blushed.

Taekwoon pushes him off so he falls against the mattress with a bounce and a grunt. “Turn over,” he orders, guiding the younger by holding his sides. He pulls Hongbin closer, letting his chest press to his back and hips rest stilly against his ass.

He almost laughs at how tense Hongbin becomes beneath him.

“I can feel your—” He starts.

But Taekwoon cuts him off, whispering lowly between his shoulder blades. “That’s the point.”

“No,” Hongbin nearly shouts, his arm going back to hit Taekwoon’s knee. “I can’t do this. I’m not nearly drunk enough. Get off.”

Taekwoon rolls off and Hongbin turns to him with a defeated glare. “I wouldn’t let it happen if you were any more drunk,” he assures, even when that’s the last thing Hongbin cares about.

He runs his hand through the younger’s hair before getting up, satisfied with how he handled the situation and finding Hongbin’s expressions amusing. He takes Hongbin’s empty glass back to the kitchen, leaving it in the sink for now since he’ll just have to deal with it in the morning. His body lingers with jitters from earlier that he can’t seem to shake off and it all almost makes him feel frustrated, sad.

Hongbin’s still on the bed when he returns, apparently still thinking about what just happened as he asks, “So, if we did do it, would my ass feel weird after?”

Taekwoon acts casual, folding some shirts the two of them had thrown around throughout the week. This is just another one of Hongbin’s scenarios, it seems. “You could shower once we’re done.”

“I’m not sure that would help.”

Taekwoon smirks to himself, purposely not showing his face as he places the clothes in a stack. “Want me to lick you after?”

There’s a dead pause so he turns around. Never has he seen such a horrified look on the younger’s face. “I have learned so much about you these past few months. Now I fully understand how you and Wonsik ended up doing this kind of stuff together. You’re both dirty.”

“I’ve never slept with Wonsik,” Taekwoon retaliates as he turns, softening his face as if to object.

“But you would.”

Taekwoon hates how he can’t really argue with that. Because he probably would. Probably would let Wonsik do whatever he wanted with him as long as he gets off in the end—which his body has already proven to himself that it’s very possible. Hongbin’s smiling softly from the bed, like he’s happy knowing he’s right. And Taekwoon hesitates for a moment, leaping onto the side of the mattress fast enough to make the younger yelp and bend in his limbs. 

“Hey, hey, no, I said we’re done!” Hongbin nearly snarls while Taekwoon lets himself fall against the sheets. His bony finger presses to Taekwoon’s forehead lightly after a minute.

“What are you doing?”

Hongbin seems to be thinking too much for his thoughts to come out quite yet. But once he does, his tone becomes light and delicate, curiosity seemingly boiling underneath it all. “Hey, do you ever think Wonsik liked you as more than just a ‘get drunk and make out’ with buddy?”

Taekwoon doesn’t answer that, he certainly doesn’t want to think about it, so he drops his head against the sheets and groans until Hongbin laughs and changes the topic. “So, remember how Hakyeon and I used to fight a lot?”

 

 

It’s freezing outside as Taekwoon waits for Hongbin to come pick him up. He keeps checking his phone, but there are no new messages following his last one which reads, ‘We are going out tonight. Be ready by 7.’

Taekwoon doesn’t have to guess the occasion this time. Hongbin’s been at meetings all day about the movie role he’s been going on about for months now. Today was supposed to be the final decision now that production is ready to start filming within the next few months. Hongbin’s been quiet for the past couple days and Taekwoon’s put a lot of effort into trying to give him the space he may have needed. He’s found Hongbin lying on the couch with Todd Cat while staring blankly at the television multiple times the past week and his meals haven’t been large enough to take away Taekwoon’s worry, but he let Hongbin be. Only when he was sought out did he take action. The younger reached out for embraces a couple times, and even last night, Taekwoon held onto him in attempt to ease his mind—but he’s not sure if it helped.

So he’s not upset as he waits, pressing his boots into the fresh snow to break it, make it ugly, and leaving the imprint of his step there for all to see until it melts away. Hongbin arrives right on time, pulling up to the building and unlocking the door just as Taekwoon yanks on the handle. He settles in as Hongbin gets back on the slippery road.

They don’t say anything as the radio plays, even when it’s too lowly for either of them to hear it. He gazes over at the younger as he drives, but he can’t read him. So he asks, softly, “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere fun,” Hongbin responds sternly without a glance.

“Where?”

He watches Hongbin bite at his bottom lip, like he’s thinking how to say whatever it is, and the waiting gives Taekwoon an instant rush of anxiety. Finally, following an exhale, he whispers, “We’re going clubbing.”

Taekwoon gaps as Hongbin continues driving on because he can’t be serious. _He_ , of all people, cannot go clubbing anymore. He’ll be devoured. “Hongbin, we can’t,” he states slowly, immediately looking through the windows to see if they’re already being followed.

“I want to,” Hongbin whimpers helplessly.

Taekwoon sighs, shaken slightly by Hongbin’s soft tone. “Stop the car.”

“No.”

“Hongbin, please. You know this is a bad idea. People are going to be all over you. It won’t be fun for either of us. Pull over.”

He does this time, turning down a random side street and throwing the car in park, and it only takes another minute before he starts. “I’m taking the role. I can’t get out of it. I tried, I fought, I threatened them, but there’s nothing I can do. I signed the papers, but I told them this is it. This is my final schedule for now. They agreed to that after I yelled for about an hour, but I’m not sure I trust them on their word.”  His voice sounds dry and hurt, like he can’t hold anything back anymore. “I’m going to have to cancel my family trip. Or, at least, let my family go without me, which I doubt any of them will want to do.”

Hongbin doesn’t cry, but he hops out of his car and walks slowly down the street. It’s quiet thankfully, and Taekwoon steps out to watch him, to make sure he doesn’t make a break for it or do something else stupid. He stares at the younger’s silhouette, his blue winter coat stands out against all the white snow that covers the ground, the trees, and rooftops, and he wishes there were something he could do, something to make him happy. There really isn’t, though. He already knows what Hongbin wants and it’s not anything he can provide.

He catches up to Hongbin and they walk beside one another silently through the streets. It’s cold, so he shoves his hands in his pockets and zips his coat up to his chin. Hongbin seems jaded, expressionless and worn-out, yet they keep walking. Not many people are around, but Taekwoon lift’s the younger’s hood up just in case.

They’re in an area Taekwoon has never really ventured into, but there’s something so nice about the crisp air in his lungs and the freedom of being able to just explore that he never takes for granted. He hasn’t since he first lost it years ago.

Hongbin flinches slightly when Taekwoon wraps his arm around his shoulder. They’ve strayed far from the car and Taekwoon’s afraid he’ll forget how to get back. He asks Hongbin if he wants to pick up food as they pass by shop after shop, but the younger simply shakes his head, saying he’ll really need to adhere to his diet now, and Taekwoon nods in understanding even when he doesn’t want to.

Taekwoon drives them back home as the younger gazes out the window the entire time. Hongbin doesn’t even reach for the alcohol when he steps in the kitchen. He merely gets a water bottle out of the fridge and turns, catching Taekwoon’s eye contact as he pauses, and stares back almost hopelessly. It’s slow, the way he moves his feet one by one until he presses his face against Taekwoon’s collar and wraps his arms around his back.

“Thank you so much, hyung,” he murmurs into Taekwoon’s shirt.

Taekwoon hums slightly, not really sure he deserves it, but openly accepts the warmth and shuts his eyes as his arms hold the younger close.

“I’ll probably not be able to stay here once activities start.”

His grasp on Hongbin tightens and he leans his face into his neck. Taekwoon didn’t want to hear any of those words. “I understand.”

“Can we just go to bed?”

Taekwoon glances at the glowing clock off the stovetop. It reads 9:21pm. “Yeah.”

Hongbin washes up while Taekwoon changes into whatever t-shirt and shorts he calls his pajamas and then they swap once the younger returns. Taekwoon half expected him to drink himself to sleep tonight; his sadness seems to radiate from his presence, but he doesn’t. They face one another in bed, warm and comfortable under the covers, and Taekwoon almost wants to nudge the younger with his toe to make his expression even slightly less sullen.

“I’m going to travel a lot once this movie is over. I’m going to go to so many places and not come back for maybe a few months,” Hongbin starts, his eyes focusing on the circular patterns within the sheets.

Taekwoon stares off at the same shapes. “Alone?”

“Probably for most of it. My family might come, but they will want to come back after a couple weeks, but I need more time.”

Taekwoon thinks this might be a good idea—better than simply running away. It’s certainly more realistic. “Maybe you can find someone to go with you.”

“Who, you?” Hongbin glances at him with that question.

“No, not me.” He shakes his head subtly with his words.  “Maybe someone you like.”

The younger’s expression falls, but their eye contact fails to break. “I like you,” he says, short and sweet, yet somehow sounding painful. 

Taekwoon winces slightly from the frailness of Hongbin’s voice. He wishes this wasn’t such an issue, that he wasn’t so afraid, that the world wasn’t so cruel. “Maybe you’ll meet someone while filming. Or just in between the time frame of now and then. You meet new people every day.”

His entire expression is nothing but sadness as he asks, “Do you just not want to go with me?”

And it breaks Taekwoon’s heart even more than it already is. “I can’t leave for months, Hongbin. I don’t have the funds you do.”

“I’ll pay for you,” he offers quickly, as if the money truly doesn’t matter to him.

Taekwoon sighs, knowing he’ll be letting Hongbin down with any response that isn’t ‘yes’, but this time he just can’t fully give in.  “I’ll visit.” Hongbin blinks, but nods after a moment, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

Their conversation dies off following that. Hongbin presses against his side and Taekwoon slides an arm beneath his waist. Their closeness is very warm, but not uncomfortably so, and Taekwoon nuzzles his forehead against the younger’s. The air is intimate and fuzzy, and if things were different, if they truly loved one another like they both crave from the outside, he might actually be able to properly console the younger. But he’s already realized he really isn’t as good with helping and taking care of those he loves as he’s always thought he might have been.

Hongbin’s not sleeping, but he’s not moving either. Neither of them do as time passes slowly and the dark night only becomes darker.

 

 

It hasn’t even been a full week since Hongbin confirmed the movie role and yet Taekwoon already finds a text on his phone saying, ‘I’m staying at my home tonight. I’m sorry. I don’t have time to drive to your place. So sleepy… Goodnight~’

Taekwoon stares at the screen for a moment too long. This is the second night in a row Hongbin hasn’t come home. And it’s not like he hasn’t thought about this. He’s long known Hongbin living with him wasn’t going to last, wasn’t going to be forever, and was only a temporary fix, but he’s held onto it so closely that suddenly being alone again isn’t something he’s prepared for.

He stands outside his bedroom doorway, staring into the living room and what he can see of the kitchen, and finding the atmosphere thin, empty. Todd Cat comes up to him, looking as happy as a cat can in hopes for attention, but Taekwoon walks right past him towards the window.

Snow blows off the roof, but the sky remains white and still. He has nowhere to go, no one to talk to, no one to be with and he can’t stop his mind from constantly repeating all of it.

His first attempt is to stare at Hakyeon’s number, but not actually press the button to connect the lines. He can’t deal with Hakyeon right now, especially not if he interrupts any personal or private time the elder desperately deserves. Even though he encourages Taekwoon to reach out, he doesn’t want to be the old that keeps interrupting Hakyeon’s new.

He tries the television next, changing the channel to the news where the anchors discuss the current economic struggles of Korea and how some big time CEO is getting arrested for embezzlement. It’s all boring, non-important to his life or interests, so he keeps on flipping through the channels, pausing when Eunha’s face appears, but hitting the power button off after just another moment.  

So for his third attempt, he calls Jaehwan, but there’s no answer. He’s most likely busy—he usually always is, but at least he calls back. At least he responds one way or another and apologizes for not picking up and tries to make things right. And he does even when he’s in other countries, other time zones, other places with bad signals. Because he’s Jaehwan.

He’s not Wonsik. He’s not someone who acts as if he doesn’t exist even when he still lives his life like normal. He still does his job, he still produces, and he works with the trainees enough that they are on close terms. But he doesn’t return Taekwoon’s calls.

And this is how Taekwoon ends his night. Alone, in his cold bed, thinking. Thinking about how he _still_ hasn’t changed, how quickly he went from Eunha to Hongbin, and how he’s still unhappy. And yet his mind always goes back to Wonsik. To how Wonsik would hold him, touch him, make him feel as compared to the others in his life. Maybe he’s the one with the most prominent pattern.

His nose hovers above his pillow as he tries to block out all of his surroundings, all of his senses, because his muscles, his brain, everything hurts. He can feel tears welling up, but he desperately holds them back, holds back the thoughts of how he’s reminded that he’s miserable, Hongbin’s wretched, and Eunha’s is still fighting denial. And Wonsik? Who the hell knows.

‘Fuck him,’ he thinks in Hongbin’s voice, but immediately retracts it because he doesn’t mean it. He’s upset, he’s distressed, he’s completely sober, and yet he reaches for his phone again. His fingers move fast against the screen, like they are already used to this process even when the outcome is always disappointing, always the same, and he hits the call button without thinking twice. He lets his eyes shut against the lifting melody that still hasn’t changed from the last time, still unfitting and confusing, and waits. Waits until nothing happens and he hangs up before he’s even prompted to leave a message.

 

He wishes he knew what happened, if he’s really the one to blame for Wonsik’s straying or if there’s another reason entirely. Wonsik had always been so close to the members and he can’t even imagine him yelling at someone like Sanghyuk because that doesn’t seem like something that he would ever do. He wants to know why Wonsik has stopped talking to Hongbin and pretends like things are still alright the few times a year they actually do run into one another. They were nearly inseparable back in the days so none of this makes sense. He just doesn’t know, he just doesn’t get it, and he almost thinks maybe enlisting early was his worst decision.

Because he lied. He told Wonsik he would be alright, that Vixx would be alright, but they weren’t. Hakyeon’s wedding was the first time the six were together in a long, long time, and even though the wedding was gorgeous, nothing has ever felt right since. Sanghyuk enlisted right after, Jaehwan temporarily moved to Japan, Hongbin got lost in the busy life of solo stardom, Hakyeon settled, Wonsik left with more questions than answers, and Taekwoon’s here, alone—stagnate.

Sleep doesn’t come to Taekwoon that night, but he watches Todd Cat nuzzle his face into his paws as he does. So he reflects on what he truly wants, his raw desires, and tries to imagine his own scenario within his mind. He wants Hongbin happy, to see him smiling brightly and succeeding. And he feels the same for Eunha. He wants to know if Wonsik’s alright, if he secretly married Gabriella—or whomever—and has a life completely unknown to the outside world. Maybe he has kids, maybe he adopted a pet, but Taekwoon doesn’t know. But if not, maybe, maybe… He’ll let Taekwoon back in his life, because that’s what he wants, that’s what will make Taekwoon happy. Maybe he’ll kiss Wonsik again and the younger will hold him. Maybe they’ll plan an entire day together, laughing and exploring and having a sense of adventure Taekwoon feels he’s long lost, but hopes Wonsik hasn’t quite yet. Maybe they’ll spend the night together, like how they used to, close and cuddled and warm, but aware. Aware like all the nights he is with Hongbin. And maybe he could fall in love, like he once was with Eunha.

 

He finds himself at a bar the next night. It’s a new one for him, but Hongbin apparently already knows some of the staff and the location of the bathroom. He’s exhausted, body slumped, with his cheek in his palm. The younger’s abnormally animated, smiling and giddy, blabbing so much so fast that Taekwoon can’t keep up. Something about paper, he remembers that much.

“Are you even listening?” Hongbin snaps his fingers in front of Taekwoon’s face until he blinks. “I said I got it in writing.”

“Got what?” Taekwoon murmurs while flipping through the drink menu. He wants to find the strongest soju that will get him drunk the fastest.

He finally looks up once a few moments pass and there’s no response out of the younger. There’s a women standing by their booth and Hongbin’s smiling at her, holding up two fingers and requests, “Two beers, please.” She nods and turns away and Hongbin takes the menu out of his hand.

“I wanted to get soju,” he interjects, slightly irritated already, and not moving his hands from their original position of holding the menu.

Hongbin smiles and finally answers Taekwoon’s first question. “So I got documentation about me taking a step away from the company after the premier. I couldn’t get out of that, but I got out of most of the following promotions. It should be enough of a break until my contract expires.”

And Taekwoon huffs, seeing the waitress return with just coasters and two glass bottles, but he doesn’t say anything more about it.

“I just feel so good. Like, I can start planning my trip now. I mean, my family told me to cancel our original, but I’m going to look into just postponing it. You’re going to have to help me pick out places to go,” Hongbin says eagerly, like he’s truly happy in the moment.

And that feeling spreads to Taekwoon. He feels some of it, the warmth in his heart growing because Hongbin’s joy is contagious. He nods, saying, “Congratulations, Bin ah.”

The younger’s grin lingers as he lifts his beer up towards Taekwoon’s. “Let’s not get wasted tonight, I’m not in the mood. Let’s just… Enjoy.”

So Taekwoon complies, drinking three beers to keep up with Hongbin’s enthusiasm. They order food, but nothing too big. Small bites to keep them from really feeling the alcohol. Taekwoon releases a long exhale as he finishes another beer. He’s already feeling full and way too sober.

Hongbin’s staring at him again, doing his thing where he tries to read his expression, but failing. “Do you want to go home?” He asks, obviously unsure of the issue.

He shakes his head, feeling the tired wobble within his balance as he does so, and decides it will be alright to just tell him. “I tried calling Wonsik last night.”

“Really?” Hongbin’s persistent smile drops. “Did he pick up?”

“No.”

“Has he called back?”

“No,” Taekwoon finds himself repeating flatly.

The younger’s hands tense on the table. “He’s the worst,” he says, but he still digs into his coat pocket for his own phone. Taekwoon knows what he’s about to do, but he can’t find it within himself to stop him. His heartbeat already picks up even though he has little hope. All he hears is a scoff out of Hongbin thirty seconds later and in an enraged tone, “Of course. Straight to voice mail.”

They both sit there thinking quietly, all while forgetting the mood was so much better before Wonsik had been mentioned. Taekwoon somehow feels worse, like maybe what he wants for himself isn’t possible, yet he feels as if he shouldn’t give up even when he’s made no progress thus far. And that’s when he remembers, “Hakyeon once told me he knows how to make Wonsik talk to him.”

“Are you serious?” Hongbin perks, but his expression isn’t much better. “How?”

“I didn’t ask,” Taekwoon admits lowly because he knows it’s not what Hongbin wants to hear.

He’s baffled, face scrunched and offended. “How come this isn’t common knowledge? Why don’t we know this? Let’s call him.”

Taekwoon hesitates, but there’s a pause once the waitress stops at their table and asks if they want a fourth round. Hongbin says no, but she takes her time chatting with him. In the meantime, Taekwoon places his phone on the table, staring at Hakyeon’s name just like the night before. He always feels bad calling him, bothering him, especially this late, but he can’t hold back this time.

“Taekwoonie,” comes through the line endearingly, calmly. And it’s strange for a moment, someone actually answering his phone call.

“Hello,” he says back. The waitress leaves and Hongbin’s attention is on him now.

“What’s that noise? Where are you?” Hakyeon asks immediately and Taekwoon almost feels overwhelmed already.

“I’m at a bar with Hongbin,” he states quickly. Phone calls with Hakyeon are nice from time to time, but they are never short. “We—I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about Wonsik—just—how do you get him to pick up? How do you speak with him? We want to, but we—” He feels his voice breaking as he hears Hakyeon hum slightly.

He’s always patient with Taekwoon. “It’s really simple. It’s Wonsik, remember?” And Taekwoon doesn’t understand what he means by that. “The kids, Taekwoon. You have to contact the trainees and they will drag him out.”

His jaw drops and Hongbin’s eyes are large with anticipation. He’s leaning in closer to hear, but Taekwoon’s not sure he can.

“Hold on, I’ll—hold on,” Hakyeon says almost frantically. Taekwoon hears many noises coming from the other side of the line. Papers shuffling, glass clinking, and a woman’s voice. It makes his throat hurt with instant guilt from assuming he must have interrupted something—Hakyeon’s dinner, presumably. “I can give you the number for Kyungtae. He’s the most wryly one.”

Taekwoon doesn’t recognize that name. In fact, he doesn’t remember any of the trainee’s names, but he writes down the numbers, one by one, with a shaky hand.

“Thank you,” he says softly, sighing out like even just that used up all his energy.

The conversation gets rushed to an end. Hakyeon makes a few snarky comments on how he’s only called when he’s needed, but closes with saying that’s what he’s there for. Hongbin takes the phone and says a few words, but they hang up shortly after and Taekwoon stares at the napkin with the random set of numbers that, somehow, might lead him to Wonsik.

“Are you going to call?” Hongbin asks unexpectedly and Taekwoon simply gazes back in awe.

“Right now?”

“No, in ten years,” he spits out exasperatedly, “Yes, right now.”

Taekwoon suddenly feels numb, like he can’t feel his fingertips as they run down the roughness of the wooden table, like all his blood has gone elsewhere. He’s dizzy as he watches Hongbin take the phone, type in the numbers perfectly, and hold before pressing the button as if he’s asking for permission.

Taekwoon doesn’t grant him that, though. He stares, still and cold, but still sweating. He wonders if he’ll just be calling a random boy or if Wonsik won’t even be there. What if they aren’t even together, what if it’s weird, or awkward, or if Wonsik will reject the call altogether. He wonders if he’ll even get to hear his voice.

“I won’t do it if you don’t want me to. I almost want to do it myself, but I want you to talk to him first. I think—you should,” the younger stammers, almost like he’s choked up within the moment.

It makes Taekwoon tilt his head, feeling his blood even out a little bit, and for some clarity to prevail. “Okay,” he breathes, biting his lip and scooting out of the booth to get around to Hongbin’s side.

“Leave if you have to,” Hongbin says while pressing his finger to the screen, making it flash and animate from the signal going out, and Taekwoon’s already lost his mind.

He takes the phone, takes himself, and rushes out from the back of the bar. It’s suddenly so loud. Televisions play, people scream and laugh, and he heads for the door as the unfamiliar tone rings and his heart beats strongly against it all. He steps outside, immediately realizing he left his coat hanging back by the booth, but doesn’t have the ability to even think about going back when he hears a light, “Hello?”

His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. The boy repeats himself, and Taekwoon uses all the force in his chest to quickly respond, to talk faster than he feels he can keep up with, but in reality only managing, “Hi.”

“Who is this?” He sounds confused, lost, and Taekwoon’s afraid he’s going to hang up.

His lips feel dry and people make faces at him for blocking the entrance. “It’s—uh—Taekwoon. Jung Taekwoon. And you are Kyungtae, right? I was—”

“Oh,” he gets quiet. Taekwoon turns down the street to lean against the building. It’s not so busy over here, but his breath is more visible within the air as he breathes out. “Sunbaenim? How did you… Get my number?”

By his tone, Taekwoon thinks this is the one who approached him in the hallway months ago, but he’s not sure. He can’t remember that much. “Yeah, Hakyeon gave it to me—sorry. I was wondering if you could get Wonsik for me?” He manages to verbalize that with only a little bit of guilt. His other senses aren’t working properly at the moment.

“Ah, yeah, of course. He calls me all the time for Wonsik hyung,” the boy says. “Hold on, he should be in the other room.”

Taekwoon swears his heart isn’t going to make it. His hands shake, but he doesn’t register the fact that he’s probably freezing. He has the phone pressed so tightly against his ear that he can hear the boy walking, opening doors, and knocking. He hears the syllables of his name being pronounced, the voice of someone else, and the nearly inaudible whispers going back and forth.  There’s a pause, but then the voice is clear again. “He’s getting his phone now. I’m going to hang up, but he’ll call you on his.”

“Thank you,” he manages, thinking this child is something special.

“No problem, sunbaenim.”

And the line dies. Taekwoon turns towards the building, leaning his arm onto the brick, and ultimately gasping in the frigid air in attempt to slow his heart rate, slow his mind, because none of that felt real. He’s so worked up, annoyingly so, but he can’t help it. He can’t stop himself. It’s all so much.

But then he sees it, the name ‘Wonsik’ glowing on his screen, the vibrations sending shivers through his nerves, and he has to blink to make sure he’s not seeing things. He can’t remember the last time Wonsik called him, granted he’s not thinking much at the moment, but it still makes him freeze, makes him have to force the pads of his fingers against the screen to answer.

And he does, slowly drawing the phone back to his ear. “Hello?” He still says out of pure habit.

“Hey.” It’s deep and ends way too quickly, like it went through one ear and out the next to never be heard again. “Hyung?”

“Hi,” he says again, softer this time, as he crouches his body down on the sidewalk. “It’s been a while…”

“Yeah, I’m—sorry,” Wonsik says, but it doesn’t exactly sound genuine. He sounds confused, awkward, and it’s only making this harder on Taekwoon to understand. “Do you need something?”

The question rings throughout his mind, lingering and sinking in. He shuts his eyes, inhaling deeply, because, yes, he needs so much right now and this is only just the start. “I just want to see you,” he begins with quickly, and he feels good about his tone of voice until he continues, adding, “ _Please_.”

Wonsik sighs loudly into the phone and it sends a horrifying chill through his spine. “I’m—kind of busy,” he speaks, sounding slightly annoyed and mildly upset at the same time. And it breaks Taekwoon.

“It doesn’t have to be now. This week maybe? Next week? Next month?” He’s straining. It hurts because he doesn’t want the conversation to go like this.

And there’s a pause, like his pathetic begging might actually be working. Wonsik’s tone softens into something familiar, something he hasn’t heard in _so long_ , as he asks, “Hyung, is something wrong? Are you alright?”

It feels so much different. Like his memories of Hongbin asking him that, Hakyeon, Eunha, his family, even, have never struck him this hard. He sits against the snowy concrete, leaning his back alongside the frozen building, and letting his head loll forward into his own warmth. “I miss you,” he nearly whimpers, unable to hold back anymore.

“I—,” Wonsik starts, but there’s no reaction out of Taekwoon. He’s too drained now, vision fuzzy, with goosebumps all over his red, screaming skin. “How about Saturday? Lunch or dinner—whichever you prefer.”

Taekwoon nods slowly even though Wonsik can’t see it. His heart feels light, fluttery even, and he doesn’t even check to see if his schedule is clear that day as he responds, “Dinner.”

“Alright. I’ll message you that morning about when and where we can meet up,” Wonsik continues, but Taekwoon can’t place his tone. “I need to go now, though.”

Taekwoon feels as if he has so much to say still, that this entire conversation has been way too short to end already, but he doesn’t even try to elongate it. He smiles faintly to himself, involuntarily bending his legs in closer for warmth, and says, “See you then.”

“Yeah, hyung. See you.” And Wonsik hangs up.

 

Hongbin’s grin overpowers his face once Taekwoon repeats the story back to him. They leave together, pulling in a small crowd as Hongbin gets recognized by normal people within the bar and because they know him, even a few notice Taekwoon as well. It’s unpleasant, all of it, but Taekwoon has more important matters on his mind. He tugs on Hongbin’s wrist as the younger waves with his other. Neither of them drove, so they walk the streets a few blocks with a small group of people following close behind until a cab arrives.

Taekwoon groans heavily, pulling on Hongbin’s shoulder until he sits and they are able to shut the car door. He doesn’t want to let this ruin his night. He’s too jittery and he’s also too used to this life.

They go home, his home, his and Hongbin’s home, and there’s something about the way Todd Cat sits by the door eagerly as they enter that is instantly calming. Tonight, in bed, he doesn’t hold onto the younger, but they stare at one another as Hongbin asks how he’s feeling, what he expects, and what he wants to happen from the meeting. And Taekwoon tries to answer, tries to put even nonexistent thoughts into words, but he mainly shrugs, shutting his eyes, as he attempts to get his feelings together about it. He doesn’t tell Hongbin about Wonsik’s tone, about the fact he so clearly didn’t initially want to meet up until Taekwoon begged, but he thinks about it. And none of it eases his mind. None of it makes him feel good anymore. So he goes to sleep.

 

But it all stays in his mind, the stickiness of the thoughts is tough like glue. Hongbin’s with him, and for the first time in a few weeks, they drink coffee together in the morning. The warmth of the liquid and the aroma throughout the kitchen becomes hypnotic in a nice way. They don’t kiss. In fact, they haven’t in over a week now. Taekwoon doesn’t feel like it and Hongbin hasn’t asked. He wonders if this was really all one-sided to begin with. But Hongbin looks serene, at peace as he sits across from him at the table, Eunha’s gift mug that he has still never asked about in hand, staring into his dark, black coffee.

“I can tell you’re freaking out,” his voice comes out smoothly, giving off almost the same feel as Taekwoon’s coffee does going down.

“Am I that obvious?” Taekwoon responds, smiling a little to himself, but dropping it quickly.

Hongbin releases a soft chuckle. “Basically.”

“What if he hates me?”

“You know he doesn’t.”

Taekwoon frowns; part of him doesn’t like the fact that he really _isn’t_ sure on that. “I don’t feel like I know him at all anymore.”

That comment has Hongbin mirroring his expression, but he looks away after a moment, as if he’s thinking hard on how to respond positively to that. “Then make the extra effort to learn while you have the chance.”

Hongbin leaves soon after to attend some fan event he doesn’t want to go to and Taekwoon stays. His home is the same as always; a sanctuary, but a lone one. Time passes as he washes the dishes and does laundry, watching some mindless television in between loads, and paces for most of it. The whole process reminds him of the times when he would wait days and days for Eunha. It’s Wonsik, though. Someone who he’s so excited to see, yet absolutely terrified at the same time. Someone he used to be so close to, but now it’s been far too long since he’s even laid eyes on him. Hakyeon’s wedding anniversary is already less than three months away. Just thinking about Wonsik makes his heart pump faster and his chest hurt with worry.

 

But that doesn’t stop the day from arriving, from earth to keep spinning, and from Taekwoon to have morning schedules he doesn’t want to be at. The stylists spray his hair while brushes add another layer to his face and he worries he won’t have time to wash it all off before seeing Wonsik.

It’s almost noon and the first round of the photoshoot has ended, but he needs to quickly change and move to a different set in order to continue. He’s getting frustrated—the female models hold onto him and press against his arms as they pose and the photographer shouts her love for it. He represses, always represses, and plays along until it’s over and his manager gives him the okay to get the hell out of there.

‘I’m at the studio. You can come at any time.’ Wonsik actually sent him earlier during the day.

He feels as if he’s rushing, he’s speeding, and none of his rational thoughts can keep up. There’s no time to change, to shower, to even wonder what he’s going to do or say when he pulls up to the studio. He just knows he’s not going inside. Not again—not this time.

The evening sun is almost blinding as he drives through the slow city traffic. He takes deep breaths, but none of them are as calming as he needs them to be. He’s thinking about Wonsik so his heart races and he just wants it all to stop.

There’s people outside of the building and Taekwoon can’t tell if they’re annoying fans or just normal citizens. He parks facing away and shuts the vehicle off. The air quickly becomes chilled, but he stays in it, embracing and unmoving, as if to prepare himself for whatever is about to unfold. Hongbin sends him a thumbs up emoticon he doesn’t respond to, but he goes back to his one message conversation with Wonsik to stare at it. He wonders if Wonsik will pick up if he calls, if he expects Taekwoon to go in and find him, or if he’s supposed to go through the trainee again. He hopes for the first one.

The tune of Wonsik’s ring has become unnerving to his ears—still as confusing as it was the first time. And it goes, plays through all the way to the point Taekwoon’s ready to give up, ready to let his heart fall from its clutches on hope, but it suddenly stops. There’s a pause of the lines connecting. “Hey hyung,” Wonsik starts, his voice breathless and urgent. “Are you here?”

“Ye—yeah. I’m outside.”

“Okay.” There’s a break, but he can still hear Wonsik moving around. “I’ll be right there.”

And Taekwoon can’t help himself. “There’s a group out front. I can drive to the back if—”

“Don’t,” Wonsik says almost harshly. “They aren’t here for me. I’ll be right there.”

Taekwoon doesn’t even get the chance to say goodbye before the phone beeps that Wonsik hung up. He can’t stop staring through the side mirror. He almost thinks that he should get out, that Wonsik most likely won’t know which car is his, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, what to say, how to act, or behave. He turns the car back on, lowering his window enough to stick his arm out. It’s cold. The sun’s lower than before, but still shining through in between the buildings as the temperature drops with its disappearance.

There’s no movement. Not from himself, the crowd outside the building, or the front entrance. The anticipation builds up to an extreme. Taekwoon catches himself biting at his lip and digging a nail roughly into the leather steering wheel. He shuts his eyes for a moment, opening them to see the door open.

A tall, thin, man with a dark red coat emerges. A man who is clearly, in all sense, Wonsik. The crowd turns their heads in his direction, one desperately running to him, and Taekwoon’s hand immediately jolts a grip on the door handle. But Wonsik only shakes his head to the girls and they back down, walking away and easily letting him through. He walks into the parking lot, glancing around like he’s not sure what he’s looking for, and Taekwoon relaxes his hand enough to slide it out the window.

It takes a second, but Wonsik spots him, walking forward towards him, and Taekwoon retreats his arm, bringing it to press down on the button that unlocks all the doors and up on the switch that closes the window. He’s chilled at this point—for probably more than just one reason.

He holds his breath as the passenger door opens. Wonsik doesn’t get in, but he stands there, leaning down slightly to get in Taekwoon’s full view.

The first thing Taekwoon notices is his hair is natural and black, ruffled from blow drying and the strong winter winds from outside. The second thing is that he’s smiling. It’s small, clearly uneasy, but _it’s there_. And he opens his mouth, saying, “We don’t have to drive. I was thinking we could walk.”

Taekwoon feels his eyebrows furrow as he stares, as his jaw falls open slightly, all while his brain tries to make sense of all of this. “The crowd…”

Wonsik blinks. “I told you, they aren’t here for me.”

He’s still speechless, motionless, and Wonsik frowns at him.

“Or we can drive. Whichever you prefer,” he says, giving up, and putting the decision in Taekwoon’s hands.

“Drive.”

Wonsik nods, settling into the passenger seat, and shutting the door. Taekwoon doesn’t look away, though. He can’t because he’s already baffled. Wonsik’s acting normal, like they haven’t gone over half a year without speaking, and he looks good, healthy, and well groomed. He doesn’t look as if he spends his days cooped up in a dark cave as Hongbin described it. He looks… Alright.

“What?” he cowers his shoulders and scoffs with his lips curved.

“Where are we going?” Taekwoon finally asks.

 

The restaurant is just down the street—they really could have walked if Taekwoon wasn’t as cautious, anxious—but Wonsik doesn’t say anything more about it. The restaurant is more family oriented, but they are seated at a small table in the center. People are watching him, specifically turning their heads and whispering to others to join in, and he hasn’t felt more exposed in a long time. He’s tense, as tense as the layers of professional makeup on his face will allow him to look, and Wonsik leans over the table, asking, “Hyung, are you alright?”

It’s that question again. Just his voice manages to ease Taekwoon into a nod. His muscles relax, allowing him to slump back into his chair. He’s so frustrated how much he’s struggling to keep himself together, but he doesn’t feel like himself. It’s hard to focus on Wonsik when he doesn’t feel comfortable to begin with.

They order meat. A usual as they would in the past together. Taekwoon runs his fingers through his hair—all stiff and held together skillfully. He hates it. Wonsik seems to sense his discomfort, but he doesn’t ask about it anymore. The environment feels too strange for Taekwoon to ask anything. It’s almost awkward between them.

“So how’s life with Hongbin?” Wonsik asks to break the tension. Everyone seems to know this fact by now. “I saw on the news, well… I heard about what happened with Eunha first. Sorry about that. You two… Yeah.”

Taekwoon’s surprised Wonsik is aware of that much. “It’s alright. Eunha and I were never going to be happy together.” He glances back up, but becomes uneasy about how Wonsik’s returning gaze is almost invasive. “Being with Hongbin has been nice, but it’s not going to last much longer. He wants to travel.”

“I’m definitely going to watch his movie when it comes out,” Wonsik nods, as if he’s promising that to himself.

Taekwoon wonders when that first became public knowledge. “Hongbin misses you a lot.”

And this has Wonsik dropping his face. He looks sad, irritated for some reason, and it only causes Taekwoon to feel the same. “I know,” is all he responds with—leaving more questions than answers.

But he changes the subject before things get too quiet. “What’s with this getup?” Wonsik asks while gesturing out his hand towards Taekwoon. “You look nice.”

The compliment hits Taekwoon harder than he wants it to, but then again, any compliment from Wonsik would do that to him right now. “I—uh, came from a photoshoot. I didn’t have time to change or wash up before heading here.”

“Hyung, you could have gone home first. I would have had no problem waiting.”

Taekwoon shakes his head. He’s confused as to why Wonsik would say that now when he first said on the phone he was busy, but it doesn’t matter in the moment. “I live far.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, outside the city. I moved there years ago.”

“I didn’t know that,” Wonsik admits, and it makes Taekwoon’s expression fall. “How come?”

Taekwoon scoffs slightly, as if it’s not already obvious, but maybe to Wonsik, it really isn’t. “I don’t like it here. Too many people.” He looks around, blinking at a few people whose eyes are still lingering on him. “It’s hard to live. Especially when I was out with Eunha… People would follow us everywhere.”

“Ah, I get that. It doesn’t happen to me much anymore. But, hey, you live with Hongbin now and I can’t imagine that being much better.” He brings up a good point.

Taekwoon dips his head, idly poking his chopsticks into a napkin. “It’s bearable.”

The conversations are generic, basic ‘How have you been?’ questions followed by simple, ‘Alright’ responses. Wonsik asks about the photoshoot from earlier during the day and Taekwoon questions what Wonsik does in the studio. And it’s easy, acting like there are no issues, as if Taekwoon doesn’t have one thousand questions boiling inside, but he’s enjoying it. He’s enjoying Wonsik’s small smiles, the way his deep eyes curve while he laughs, the way it all reminds him of decent past memories.

They grill the meat while working together, bickering slightly, but in the end, Wonsik backs off and allows Taekwoon to lead. Wonsik reaches his chopsticks out to try a piece and Taekwoon catches a clear image of his hand. Nails clean and healthy, fingers long with the usual curve to them they’ve always had, and no rings around any of them—no wedding band. “How’s Gabriella?” Taekwoon pauses to ask.

The question has the younger momentarily freezing. He smiles slightly; the look he’s returning makes Taekwoon jittery. “Wow, I haven’t heard that name in a long time. Her father became ill months ago so she went back home. I haven’t spoken to her since.”

“Oh,” Taekwoon feels like an absolute idiot for even asking. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” the younger laughs, completing his reach for the meat and biting into it. “It was a weird relationship, anyway. We both knew it would have never worked.”

“Are you with anyone now?” He manages to verbalize, but weakly. He’s trying so hard to keep himself together.

Wonsik doesn’t seem as fazed by the question. He’s too busy eating—eating a lot—enough to make Taekwoon happy. He realizes Wonsik isn’t a thin as he was at Hakyeon’s wedding. He appears to be in shape, but his heavy ebony sweater hides the proof. “No, my focus has been elsewhere. I spend most of my time at work,” he explains vaguely and Taekwoon’s heart picks up at that. “What about you?”

“I’m living with Hongbin and my cat,” he tries to joke, tries to hide his smile.

“You have a cat?” Wonsik seems more surprised about that. He’s had Todd Cat for over two years now.

Their plates clear, and Taekwoon fully realizes they have nothing planned after this, that Wonsik will probably go back and the night will be over. He doesn’t want that, he doesn’t feel as if he’s learned enough, asked enough questions.

He pushes on Wonsik’s wallet as he opens it to pay and doesn’t allow him to. Wonsik smiles from across the table and Taekwoon appreciates that he doesn’t gawk about it—not like he ever used to.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” Taekwoon slips out despite all the panic in his mind telling him to not. “You can meet my cat and… Hongbin might be there.”

He can’t really read Wonsik’s expression, but he knows it’s not good. It’s hesitant and blank. “Um,” he starts, but doesn’t end up finishing. Taekwoon sighs, annoyed with himself, but Wonsik seems to react to that. “Just—let me call and make sure the boys will be alright.”

Taekwoon nods, not really sure what he means by that, but not questioning at the same time. They make their way out of the restaurant and Taekwoon feels all the eyes on him again. He stares at Wonsik’s broad backside until they’re out in the cold. It’s flurrying now, lightly, but the sun has fully disappeared and the snow falls like glitter under the lampposts. The younger whispers on the phone, murmuring to someone unknown to Taekwoon, and paces his feet through the fresh layer of snow. It’s pretty, Taekwoon thinks, the white flakes mixing in with Wonsik’s dark hair.

He’s dazed by the time the younger’s back by his side, standing tall and straight. He clears his throat, telling Taekwoon he’ll come, that their evening together won’t end quite yet. It’s surreal, all of it. Wonsik brings a new scent to the inside of his car, it’s subtle, but the ride is long enough to let it sink in. Taekwoon likes it, he feels at ease, he feels his insides yearning for more.

Wonsik talks a lot while Taekwoon focuses on the slick roads. “The trainees are a lot of work, but they rely on me heavily. I’m rarely away from them for long. I just needed to make sure someone was there to look after them.”

Taekwoon hums.

“I know they’re young, but they mean a lot to me. I want them to do well, to succeed, you know?”

“I hope they do,” Taekwoon responds softly.

Wonsik shifts his body and audibly sighs. “I heard from the boys that you came and visited not long ago. They seemed to really like that. Maybe you can come back and see them sometime?”

Taekwoon holds a breath, but keeps his lips shut. He’s thankful he can’t see Wonsik’s face to tell if he’s completely offended or not by the lack of response. He waits until they’re stopped at a red light, turning to the younger who only appears saddened. It makes Taekwoon’s mouth fall open, feeling as if he needs to instantly explain. “I… Compared them too much to us and it made me upset. I don’t want to see them struggle like we did.”

Wonsik’s gaze is strong even when his eyes are half-lidded. “I’m trying very hard to give them a better experience than we got. It’s top priority for me.”

Taekwoon smiles faintly, turning his attention back onto the road, and stressing, “Please.”

It takes some time, but before long he’s pulling into his building’s garage. He’s almost hoping Hongbin’s actually home, but he never messaged him to confirm. Wonsik’s quiet, but he’s looking around curiously. He seems hesitant again and Taekwoon wishes he could comfort him.

He opens the door to Todd Cat standing in the entrance as he normally does, meowing for attention he hasn’t received at all throughout the day. “Bin ah,” he calls, but only Todd Cat answers. Wonsik steps in close behind him, enough to shut the door. “Bin ah.”

There’s no other noise besides Wonsik removing his shoes and unzipping his coat. He slips out of his boots and immediately heads towards his bedroom, pushing the door open to only find it empty. They really are alone.

“He’s not here,” Taekwoon breaks the bad news solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

Wonsik’s crouching before Todd Cat, reaching out an arm confidently, but seeming frightened all at the same time. “Ah, that’s too bad.” Todd Cat turns away, running past Taekwoon into the bedroom.

“He’s skittish around new people,” he ends up saying, going along with the lighter of the two subjects.

Wonsik stands back up, his sweater falling to his shape perfectly in the process, and Taekwoon notices himself looking up. He’s too used to being the tallest amongst the people in his life. He’s blinking at Wonsik, finding himself wanting to hug him, to embrace him, to touch him, but he takes a step back instead. His head tilts as he forces a soft smile. “Want a drink?”

Wonsik doesn’t respond, but Taekwoon doesn’t exactly give him time before he turns into the kitchen. He certainly does.

“Hongbin brings alcohol in all the time. We have gathered a collection,” he explains, opening the cabinet with multiple different kinds of bottles inside. Wonsik stares, his mouth gaping, but ultimately turning back towards the elder, looking almost apologetic as he states, “Actually, I—don’t drink anymore.”

The words almost sound like a foreign language because no matter how he thinks about it, he can’t make sense of them. He nearly laughs from the joke, but Wonsik remains unmoving. “What?”

“Really,” he says seriously. “I stopped after Gabriella left… Like a month after hyung’s wedding.”

Taekwoon shakes his head. He hurts, but Wonsik’s laughter is beautiful to his ears.

“I’m not kidding, hyung.”

He closes the cabinet softly, forgetting the idea entirely, and forces himself to think about something else, something that actually makes sense. “I’m going to… Wash my face. I’ll be right—back,” he says before quickly leaving his guest alone.

The water is freezing since he doesn’t let it warm before splashing it against his face. The chills spread throughout his body, through his back, down his legs, and somehow, it helps. He doesn’t feel like he understands anything anymore and Wonsik’s terrible at explaining himself. He leaves his hair, opting to deal with that later, but his face feels smooth now, color tone uneven and eyebrows light. None if it matters. He feels as if he can breathe easier without the mask on, as if he’s halfway to normalcy again.

Wonsik stands awkwardly in the kitchen against the counter when he returns. Taekwoon would offer to make him something, like he always would for Hongbin, but he’s at a loss since they just ate. Drinking’s out of the question, apparently, and the mood still feels too stiff and uncomfortable for him to ask questions. Bringing him home was probably a bad idea.

“I didn’t really have a backup plan,” Taekwoon admits to break the tension. “I’m sorry. I was really hoping he’d be here.”

Wonsik has an easy smile that relaxes Taekwoon a little bit. He glances at his watch before asking, “Any idea when he’ll get back?”

 

So they sit on Taekwoon’s black couch, close, but not that close, and Taekwoon lets his phone play on speaker as it calls. He’s fidgety, trying to not look the younger in the eyes because it’s too difficult this close up. Hongbin’s ring is soft and soothing and fitting and lasting too long. There’s no answer, not that Taekwoon expected one, but Wonsik sure did. He’s busy, plain and simple.

The younger sighs, dropping his head down enough for Taekwoon to feel comfortable looking at him. “How angry is he with me?”

Taekwoon blinks, processing the question. “I don’t know.”

Wonsik tilts his face up while pressing a knuckle to his lips. “I have to see him next time. Hopefully he’ll be free next week or something.” And that has Taekwoon’s eyes widening, his jaw falling slack, and for Wonsik to chuckle at him for it. “What’s with that look?”

Taekwoon adverts his eyes again, feeling embarrassed by his expression. He just never expected Wonsik to say something like that so easily. “You said you’re busy…”

The younger seems to stutter at that, his voice getting lighter, easier for Taekwoon to immerse himself into. “I mean, I am—it’s just… I had a good time with you today and it made me realize how much I’ve missed you guys.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” Taekwoon can’t stop himself from saying, can’t stop himself from looking anywhere besides Wonsik’s gaze. “We—we both have.”

Taekwoon’s heart beats too quickly for him to control. Their topic is starting to get into territory he’s not really sure he’s ready to submerge himself into. Wonsik doesn’t seem too uncomfortable, just quiet, as he apologizes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to both of you. I’ve just—,” he pauses, sounding emotional like Hongbin often gets, “I needed time to myself. I needed to be alone because there was too much going on.” Taekwoon glances at the younger to him poking a finger to his forehead. “Too much going on in here.”

Taekwoon nods at him slowly, understanding that much.

“And that was a small part of the reason I stopped drinking. So when Hongbin would call me asking me if I wanted to go out with him, I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to when that’s all he ever wanted to do. So I just… Stopped answering him. I stopped answering my phone to the point where I nearly got rid of it.” Wonsik stops, smiling sadly up at Taekwoon. “Sorry, I’m just rambling. I forgot how easy it’s always been to talk to you.”

“Hongbin would… Really like to see you,” Taekwoon says in light of everything else, thinking of the two of them in the past, thinking of their adventures together; their smiles. “Especially soon before work on his film starts.”

“Right,” Wonsik agrees. “Can you let me know when you and Hongbin are free?”

Taekwoon nods, “I’m free most of the time, Hongbin usually isn’t, but he makes time.”

“Good.”

Warmth is all Taekwoon feels in his chest. Todd Cat returns hesitantly enough for Taekwoon to grab him and force him into Wonsik’s arms. It doesn’t last long because Wonsik yelps and drops him, but the act is cute. It gets easier, looking at the younger, smiling at him, feeling as if he doesn’t want him to leave even when he stands by the door with his coat on. There’s a moment where they lean in towards one another to hug maybe, but they both stop themselves, and Wonsik has a shy curve to his lips.

“I can take you home,” Taekwoon offers, but Wonsik declines, pulling out his transit card.

“I’m not going home. I have to head back to the studio.”

“Okay,” Taekwoon says, disappointment spreading throughout.

“This was fun, hyung. Thanks again for dinner.”

And he leaves. Taekwoon pokes his head out into the hallway to watch him wait by the elevator.

 

 

“So he wants to see me now?” Hongbin spats, shuffling around with a box that Taekwoon’s certainly not happy he’s carrying around.

“He says he misses you,” Taekwoons yells slightly from the kitchen, knowing Hongbin’s going from room to room collecting his things. He’s not moving out quite yet, but he needs more of his stuff back at his home for now.

Taekwoon’s cooking vegetables for the two of them in the kitchen, frying them into a sauce to be served alongside rice. Not his first choice, but Hongbin’s keen on keeping up with his diet this time. 

“Yeah, well, he can fucking call me,” Hongbin shouts back.

Taekwoon has nothing more to add to that. He flips off the stove, pouring the vegetables upon two bowls of rice and letting the pan sit idly in the sink. “Bin ah,” he calls.

“Hyung, I can’t eat the rice,” Hongbin says firmly, blinking up at the elder.

Taekwoon scoffs, pushing the bowl as is into his hands. “Just eat it. You’re thin enough as it is.”

“Fine, but when I get scolded for having bloated cheeks—,” he stops while staring directly into Taekwoon’s glare. “Anyway, what else happened? Learn anything?”

Taekwoon doesn’t say anything until Hongbin sits at the table, eating—rice and all. “He doesn’t drink anymore.”

“I think I knew that,” Hongbin says, giving much less of a reaction than Taekwoon expected. “Hakyeon hyung mentioned it at one point, but I guess I never really believed him.”

Taekwoon frowns. “I had no idea.”

“It’s good, right? Maybe all this time he’s been working on himself.” Hongbin shrugs. “Did he seem happy?”

Taekwoon thinks about it, letting his chopsticks linger against his lips. “I think so. He was nervous, though.”

“He should be,” the younger snarls jokingly.

After dinner, Taekwoon follows Hongbin around to see all the empty spaces he’s leaving again. This time, for some reason, it doesn’t hurt as bad. He has no backup plan this time. Hongbin falls asleep quickly, rolled up in all the sheets even though at some point during the night he’ll throw them off. Taekwoon sits in the kitchen again, lights off and appliances humming as he drinks a single glass of wine. White with a hint of sweetness.

It relaxes him, lets his mind get fuzzy without being overwhelming, leaves his tongue dry and wanting more. But he doesn’t have a second glass. Hongbin’s long tossed the covers off the side of the bed when he returns, but he picks them back up anyway. He gazes at the younger, thinking about how he could kiss him senselessly right then and there, but it would be useless. He doesn’t want to do that anymore—not like they have for weeks now—but he’s tired of it. He’s tired of everything. Tired of living within this repeating pattern he’s started form himself.

 

 

“So when is Wonsik coming?” Hongbin asks three days later back in Seoul, in his home. “I don’t have much time.”

The sun beams brightly, but the day is already on it’s down turn. The three of them are supposed to go out and grab some food together, but Hongbin’s manager won’t stop calling him. Taekwoon sits patiently on one of the white chairs in the younger’s living room. It’s more comfortable than his own, yet somehow colder. He taps his finger against his phone, waiting. Like any moment Wonsik may or may not contact him. He’s not sure anymore.

“—I said I will be there at six, alright? It’s four-thirty right now and I have plans. You told me six, so I planned for six. You can’t just call me and scream that I need to be there now!” Hongbin’s agitated, raising his voice towards his manager in ways Taekwoon doesn’t quite condone, but certainly understands. “I’m meeting with someone. Someone very important to me—stop.”

Taekwoon shuts his eyes, leaning his head back against the cushion, thinking if Hongbin wasn’t shouting, he probably could fall asleep.  

“Yes, yes, fine. I’ll see Soojin tomorrow. I know she wants to meet me,” his voice softens and it causes Taekwoon to glance at the younger curiously, but it doesn’t last long.

Hongbin leaves the room and Taekwoon continues to sit there, closing his eyes again until a buzz from the ringer jolts him awake. He gets up quickly, rushing over to the security screen where Wonsik is staring directly into the camera from the vestibule. Taekwoon presses the button that unlocks the door and looks around for Hongbin, but he seems to have locked himself in another room.

He scrambles, getting the door for Wonsik, and hoping he looks alright at the same time. But he knows Wonsik’s really only here for Hongbin. He smiles at Taekwoon seemingly genuine, stepping inside and taking his shoes off.

“Hongbin’s on the phone,” Taekwoon explains and Wonsik hums while easily making himself comfortable. He must have been here before because he doesn’t appear as resistant as he was originally with Taekwoon. But they are awkward, the two of them, waiting for Hongbin to come back, because Taekwoon really doesn’t know what to say.

“Has he been on for long?” Wonsik questions slowly, glancing at his phone as if to distract himself.

“Maybe ten minutes.” Taekwoon says standing stiffly against the wall.

Thankfully Hongbin emerges from the hallway soon after. His brows are quirked, but he stops once he notices Wonsik standing beside Taekwoon. Taekwoon blinks and Hongbin immediately jumps at Wonsik, into his arms, into a tight hold that has Taekwoon pinging with emptiness. He hasn’t even held Wonsik yet. His own embrace is long overdue.

He takes a step back to witness the full image. Because it’s cute: the tightness of their hug and the way Wonsik drops his chin on Hongbin’s shoulder. And they hold for some time, swaying faintly, and it brings flashbacks of the two of them to mind. Good ones, meaningful ones. And during that moment, Taekwoon feels light, happy, because this was one of the things he’s been wanting. Hongbin’s voice gets rough with emotions and Wonsik cries out as he’s being punched in the side, “Bastard.”

Hongbin repeats the motion, hitting him until Wonsik’s laughing, squirming and whining, “Ow, ow, okay! I know! I’m sorry!”

The youngest stops, pressing his face into Wonsik’s collar, and holding onto him as tightly as he’d hold onto Taekwoon during his worst days. Wonsik’s leaning his body down to give Hongbin the easiest grip. His lidded eyes open slightly, glancing past Hongbin entirely in Taekwoon’s direction. And Wonsik’s look is like a jab to his stomach, lasting just a second too long for it to be accidental.

“Fucking bastard,” Hongbin repeats in a soft murmur.

“Ah, Hongbinnie,” Wonsik nearly sings in an airy tone.

They pull apart, and somehow, Hongbin looks small, upset for completely unrelated reasons. “We’re going to have to postpone this get-together.”

“Why?” Wonsik asks, frowning slightly.

Hongbin backs up to look at the two of them together. “I have a meeting to go to and it cannot wait.”

Taekwoon holds a strong gaze with Hongbin that ends with the younger’s expression going sour.

“I’m sorry, hyung.” His attention turns towards Wonsik next. “And you.”

“Hm?”

“If I call you tomorrow… Will you pick up?”

Wonsik grins sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“Promise?” The youngest sighs, not looking to play these types of games.

“I will,” Wonsik says firmly.

They all walk out together, but Hongbin leaves through the garage. Hongbin had driven Taekwoon, so he’s stuck for the moment. He and Wonsik stand in the street outside of Hongbin’s condominium complex. The sky is dark with shades of pink and deep blues and Wonsik’s white, uneasy smile catches his attention as it shines. “Want to go back to my place with me?”

So he follows Wonsik as they walk through the streets of Seoul. Wonsik says his studio isn’t that far, but the large amounts of people they pass make the trek seem endless. Taekwoon feels insanely exposed, open, and he loops his scarf around his face to hide himself even a little bit more. The younger doesn’t seem to mind the bustle of the city, but he constantly glances back with a worried expression. It’s odd, though. No one approaches them. No one calls their names or follows them. It’s almost as if no one cares. As if they’re just normal people. Even in the past winters, with him and Eunha hiding themselves under the layers and bundles, this was never possible. They blended in, but they never felt completely common, ordinary.

Wonsik leans over towards him, whispering an encouraging, “We’re almost there.” And Taekwoon relaxes just a little bit.

He realizes the Jellyfish studio is only a few more streets down once they arrive at the building Wonsik lets the two of them inside. He’s clearly fidgety, messing with the lock on his door for an extra few seconds before finally getting it open. And they step in as Wonsik flips the light on, standing there, and Taekwoon can feel the younger staring at him, wait for some sort of comment.

But it doesn’t come. Taekwoon’s mind blanks because nothing his senses are picking up resemble the past. Wonsik’s studio apartment is small, but organized, colorful, and thoughtfully decorated. It smells clean and looks nothing like how he once kept his room back in the dorms. His bed isn’t made, but it’s not destroyed with eighty-five percent of the covers thrown on the floor. The bookshelf is neatly aligned, papers stacked on the top with a weight above so they don’t fly around. There’s a gray shirt dangling from the back of his desk chair, but besides that, no other clothes are spewed around, nothing looks like it’s collecting dust.   

Just like everything else he has learned about Wonsik, this doesn’t make any sense either. Everything’s confusing and Taekwoon feels as if his head is spinning. He’s staring at Wonsik, expression blank with large eyes, as if he’s trying to identify _something_ familiar, but there’s nothing.

“Hyung,” Wonsik says in a gentle tone after a moment. “You can take your coat off.”

Taekwoon blinks away from his neatly tied light blue window curtains at the younger. He feels completely jaded, unzipping his coat only for Wonsik to help him remove it and actually hang it on hook beside the door instead of tossing it to the side.

“Say something,” the younger sounds as if he’s close to begging.

“I’m so confused,” is all he can get out, looking at Wonsik as if he’s crazy, heartbroken even.

“What, why?” Wonsik steps closer, gesturing for Taekwoon to take a seat on the bed, but he doesn’t move.

He stands there panicking, like his expression must be terrifying since Wonsik’s appears broken. The younger reaches his hand behind his back, probably attempting to lead Taekwoon in, but instead Taekwoon turns towards him. It’s slow how he wraps his arms around Wonsik’s waist, letting them hover before moving up against the thin shirt covering his shoulder blades, and tucks his head down just below the younger’s chin. Wonsik’s tenseness last for only a split second before he completely encloses Taekwoon into the embrace and lowers his head to lean against the elder’s. And it’s warm, Wonsik’s body is so warm and familiar, his hold, the feeling of his hands pressed to his back—it makes sense—everything about his touch makes sense. It’s calming, immensely so. Wonsik’s hot breath creeps against his skin and Taekwoon’s eyes blink open. The darkness between them doesn’t completely blind him from the shadows of the younger’s neck, but it also makes him feel light. Makes him feel like no embrace he’s ever had with Eunha compares to this, no hug he’s ever had with Hongbin, either.

He straightens his back as he pulls away, hands still securely holding Wonsik’s shoulders as he does so. His body feels shaken, mentally, if not physically, and Wonsik’s eyes look just as they did when he was hugging Hongbin earlier—strong and overwhelming. So he takes a step back, breaking all contact until the back of calves hit the bed and he lowers himself to sit on the edge.

Wonsik takes a deep breath, momentarily resting his hands on his hips as he turns away before dropping them and spinning his desk chair around to sit opposing Taekwoon.

Gentle, his tone is too gentle as he begins, “What is it that you’re confused about?”

“Everything about you is so different that—that it’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

That seems to completely catch Wonsik off guard. He shifts within his chair, leaning forward to hold his face within his hands, only to drop them after a second. “It’s been years, hyung. I hated who I was, so I’ve changed. I’ve changed a lot.”

Taekwoon only nods, biting his bottom lip slightly.

“It was shit, you know. I was crazy and it took me so many years to realize it. Honestly, it wasn’t until hyung’s wedding where it really it hit me. He was just… So happy. And I saw you and Eunha dancing like you were completely in love and thought, ‘ah, they must be next.’ I wanted that, too. I wanted to be happy, but I couldn’t figure it out. I had a girlfriend who I barely talked to because we simply couldn’t.” He pauses, sounding like he’s nearly about to choke up, but his eyes remain clear. “So I just did what I always did. You know what that is.”

Taekwoon doesn’t respond. He can’t physically bring himself to.

“And I didn’t have anyone to go to, to let it out to. You had gotten a girlfriend and then immediately left. And, hyung, looking back, I don’t blame you. You were the one who moved on, who got past that point, who grew up and changed. I saw you and Eunha and wished I could have that, could have the happiness you guys shared, could have the stability, but I didn’t. I crashed.”

Wonsik’s not done, but that doesn’t stop Taekwoon’s mind from pulsating with activity. He wants to laugh, to yell and scream at himself, at Wonsik, for being completely wrong, for thinking Taekwoon’s the one who has changed, but he doesn’t. He’s trembling, taking deep breaths to hold everything, but ultimately feeling the sting of tears in his eyes, the wet trail of them beginning to fall down his cheeks.

“And I only recently feel like I’ve snapped out of it. Gabriella left and instead of just producing songs and selling them to the company, Jellyfish put me in charge of a group of trainees. A group that is now set to debut in two months. That’s why the hoards of girls are outside the company. And at first I wanted no part of it—no part of them, but like you said last time, they reminded me of us, and, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck they don’t deserve it. They’re too good, too sweet, and the last thing I wanted was for them to look at me and think that’s what their path in life is going to lead them to. They’re better than that—they’re better than me. So I’ve… Really been trying.”

Taekwoon can’t bear to look at the younger anymore, he can’t believe what he’s hearing, what Wonsik thinks Taekwoon has actually become. He turns his torso, lowering his head within his arms as he presses his face against the tan sheets; the tans sheets that smell like the new Wonsik.

The bed dips beside him. All he hears is himself crying, feels himself shaking, and feels Wonsik leaning against him, atop him, as if he’s holding himself together from above. Wonsik’s hands grip his shoulders, kneading slightly before running them slowly down his arms. And once his hands reach Taekwoon’s, he holds them against the knuckles, pushing down slightly until the elder gives in, letting them slide in between his, squeezing. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried this hard—he’s loud and shaken with sobs, gasping in breaths to make up for it all. But he feels completely covered, as if Wonsik is like an umbrella keeping him out of the rain, he’s like a shield. He feels so much that he doesn’t know how to verbalize any of it. Everything is overwhelmingly Wonsik.  

“Taekwoon,” he says sadly, letting his upper body press down against Taekwoon’s back. “Taekwoon ah.”

It doesn’t help, it doesn’t stop Taekwoon from thinking about how his drinking habits have developed, how he’s used Hongbin like Wonsik once used him, and how he really hasn’t changed at all. He’s still the same person. He’s remained the same while Wonsik has spent years working on himself, changing into someone new, someone so much better and grown, while he’s remained miserable. And it’s so hard to think about, to comprehend, because he hasn’t witnessed any of Wonsik’s transformation. He remembers walking into Wonsik’s new office at the studio and immediately sensing something was off—different, changed—but there was no way he could have known what in particular.

Wonsik rolls off to the side, keeping one of their hands connected and the other running through Taekwoon’s hair. Taekwoon draws his legs up on the bed, shifting slightly on his side in order to face Wonsik. He can barely keep his eyes open, but he tries, staring directly into the younger’s only to notice he’s tearing up too. And they both cry—that aspect of them hasn’t changed throughout the years. Because in their world, shedding tears doesn’t make one weak. It makes them real—it makes them honest and human—and that’s all Taekwoon wants to be at this point.

“What’s wrong?” Wonsik asks in a weak tone. He’s not crying nearly as much as Taekwoon has been, but his face glistens from the remnants.

“Why did you do that?” He counters unintentionally. His mind has long shut off.

“Because,” Wonsik starts lightly, “because that’s what worked in the past and I thought it still might.”

That causes Taekwoon to smile softly, sadly, but he confesses, “I haven’t changed at all.”

“Of course you have,” he says even though Taekwoon just shakes his head against the sheets.

Taekwoon disconnects their hands, reaching his out to gently graze the side of Wonsik’s face, but not actually touching it until the younger leans against his palm. They gaze strongly at one another, eyes glossy and cheeks wet. Taekwoon lowers his hand down Wonsik’s skin, down the curve of his neck, and pulls. Tugging until they’re inches apart, breathing in the same air, until they take another moment to watch one another carefully, and for Wonsik to whisper softly, “This is a change.”

Taekwoon scoffs. “How?”

“Because we’re sober,” he says with a light chuckle, letting his body shuffle in closer. “And look at where we are.”

Wonsik doesn’t say anything more, as if that’s all he’s got and he’s waiting for Taekwoon to make a move. Taekwoon glances down at the younger’s lips. They’re so close to his own, but not quite together yet. His blood surges, pulsating with fear and adrenaline as he leans in.

And it’s unreal; the heat of his breath in contrast to the lightness of his lips, the slow, yet precise movements that split Taekwoon apart. It’s not painful, though. It’s anything but. Wonsik doesn’t taste the same as he used to—sweet and intoxicated with lust and loneliness—but Taekwoon doesn’t think he’ll miss it, doesn’t think he’ll ever taste that Wonsik again. But it’s okay, because this all feels so much better.

They press against one another, mending into one another’s curves as they continue to kiss, to hold onto each other, and it’s all leaving Taekwoon breathless. He gasps once Wonsik pulls away, gripping onto the younger’s neck in hopes he’ll come back, but he doesn’t. He sits back, letting his face tilt up and his shirt dip from the dishevelment of everything.

“I’m not going to let this continue if there isn’t a change.”

“What do you mean?” Taekwoon doesn’t understand.

“Tell me this is exactly what it looks like, that you aren’t just messing around—that you aren’t going to leave me again. Because I can’t handle it, I can’t try to get over you for a second time when you’ve already pushed back into my life this far.”

Taekwoon draws his hand back and the act only seems to crush Wonsik’s expression.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Wonsik asks, tone broken, and Taekwoon can only stare back. “I went crazy when you started dating Eunha. I lost it when you enlisted just months later. Because I didn’t think I realized just how much leaned on you, grew attached to you, and once you left, I didn’t know how to fill that void. It took years. Years of ignoring you, blocking you out, and hoping to never see you again for me to come to terms with it. Why do you think I never answered your calls? Because I couldn’t handle knowing about how happy you were with your girlfriend, how you were moving on with life, and I was still stuck in the past wishing I had said something before it was too late. And in the beginning, yeah, I was furious, angry with myself, but you were only doing what you were supposed to, what was _normal_ , as to whatever I was thinking—doing—with you was not.”

Taekwoon shuts his eyes with that last sentence.

“I didn’t even want to meet with you, but I couldn’t explain that to Kyungtae when he was happily telling me you had called. And I had heard about you and Eunha breaking up. I had seen you two since the beginning and never thought that would happen. I guess it just gave me some hope.”

“I haven’t been happy for a long time now,” he says lowly, truthfully. “Eunha stopped making me happy a while ago and I—I broke it off before we got in any deeper.”

Wonsik seems surprised by that, just like how Hakyeon was. “You did?”

“Yes.”

“And now what are you going to do?”

Taekwoon simply gazes at him, strong and telling even when his body wavers. “Hongbin had asked me to run away with him, but I don’t want that.”

“Then what is it that you want?”

He thinks about how Eunha had put it, how she kept herself together during their meeting after the start of the new year. He feels as if he’s simply repeating her words as he states slowly, “I don’t want to lose you from my life again.” That seems to hit Wonsik hard as he slumps over by the confession, but Taekwoon can’t take it back now. It’s too truthful, too needing to be said. He knows it will be hard, but he knows he wants to learn about Wonsik all over again. He has to.

The younger crawls over him, hands cradling his face as he leans in, pressing the tips of their noses together, and Taekwoon whimpers softly from it. And he kisses him, deeply and strong, as if he’s apologizing for everything he’s not even positive he has caused. But it’s so nice, anyway. Taekwoon tingles, everywhere, curling his toes, and sighing into Wonsik’s mouth.

Once they break, Wonsik stares at him again, eyes half-lidded and stern. His voice pings against his ear drums from how low it gets, how clear his words are even throughout all the stirring emotions, “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m not,” Taekwoon says, immediately regretting it once the younger’s expression falls.

“I want you to—I need you to,” he pleads. “I’ll do anything. Just tell me what you want.”

Taekwoon places his hands atop Wonsik’s, gliding them down slightly to grip at his wrists. He tries, really tries to force his brain back up and functioning, tries to find some clarity within the tornado of thoughts he’s got spewing around within his mind. It’s controlling and blurred, but Wonsik’s warmth feels nice against his skin. And he looks back up at the younger, parting his lips, but hesitating once he gets down to it. He wants to speak, and quickly, so he says what first comes to mind. “Touch me.”

There’s a soundless moment, dead and still and Wonsik’s eyes are sharp with all intentions. He swallows, watching the movements of Wonsik’s throat as they work up words, but only release, “Okay.”

He pulls his hands free from Taekwoon’s weak grasp and shuffles above to sit on his knees, lowering himself more, covering Taekwoon more. And it’s obvious, the feeling of Wonsik’s weight above him, how noticeable and clear it registers. His hands grip Taekwoon’s waist, causing him to wince, but immediately relax. And he thinks—he thinks about how his muscles give wherever Wonsik’s hands glide against, how hot he feels, how Wonsik’s hands aren’t as large as he remembers them, but certainly not disappointing. He thinks about how Wonsik just _gets it_ , how he knew immediately what Taekwoon truly wanted with that command.

Wonsik’s careful when lifting his shirt up, careful to not let him get cold once the air hits his skin. The younger’s hair tickles as it scratches his skin with every kiss Wonsik drops against him, but he rolls his body along with them. His breathing is unsteady, but he thinks about how even all of this feels different, easier, and more delicate. Wonsik was usually rougher, needier, but this is nice too. Everything’s nice. Everything is what Taekwoon’s been wanting. Been needing. Been living without.

Wonsik’s eyes are shut—like he’s playing with Taekwoon’s body based on instinct alone, past knowledge that is still applicable today. And his fingers press against sensitive spots Taekwoon wasn’t even sure he had prior, kissing so softly that his skin takes in every little sensation, and Taekwoon has to stop him, has to tell him. “This,” he huffs. “this.”

“Hm?” Wonsik hums against his abdomen.

He feels depleted already, drained, but Wonsik’s face moves back up to his neck, kissing, breathing against him, and he stops at his ear, nipping slightly with his teeth while avoiding the earrings.

“I want this, more of this—more of you—more of us,” he manages to stammer out, flushed and immediately nervous once Wonsik looks at him again.   

He thinks about how his chest aches as Wonsik kisses him, sloppily yet passionate, with tongue and immense heat. He thinks about how badly he must have affected Wonsik and how he wants to hear all about it. About his struggles, his life, his current dreams and goals now that he has already gotten all of his old ones out of the way. He wonders if this will work, if they’ll be able to be together the way he wants to, if Wonsik will allow it to happen.

And all the thoughts that were once overwhelming seem to blend together because they all involve Wonsik, and he’s right there. They’re kissing one another almost senselessly, but it all feels too good to stop. And Taekwoon holds onto his neck tightly while they do so, pulling at the collar of his shirt until he gets the idea to take it off. Their chests brush against one another, heatedly and wonderful, and Taekwoon realizes he already remembers the texture of his skin, the grooves of his spine.

Wonsik grazes his hips down against his own. Taekwoon gasps out a whimper as his blood immediately rushes and Wonsik’s hand holds the back of his neck so he can’t hide his expression. He can’t hide anything.

“What do you want to do about this?” Wonsik asks softly, letting his other hand slide down the elder’s body to rest it against his hip bone.

He wishes his erection wasn’t so obvious, but Wonsik’s already well aware. The younger presses their lips together again, not as rough as before, but certainly not gently. They’re heated kisses. Enough to make Taekwoon squirm beneath him, and for their foreheads to stick together from the sweat glazing their skin.

It’s all so intimate and close and Wonsik’s gaze is impossible to break from. His eyes are dark against the dim lighting of his studio, but his intentions are clear. They’re serious, stern and sure, and it almost makes Taekwoon feel stable, secure, and right. He feels safe and protected, like he can finally take in a breath that’s clear and fulfilling for the first time in months.

His arm reaches down in between them, shakily popping the button of his jeans and unzipping them while Wonsik watches. He fidgets for a moment while trying to pull them down, but Wonsik’s aid in the matter helps them both, especially when Taekwoon then reaches out for his pants.

Taekwoon pushes on Wonsik until he rolls off to the side, onto his arm where he pulls the younger back in, back against him until their legs entangle and Wonsik gasps sharply.

His fingers are the first to make their way down Wonsik’s body, to the elastic of his briefs, but he doesn’t take a moment to really stop or observe. Wonsik’s nearly as hard as he is and it only takes a few more careful rubs for him to pull his underwear down. He’s panting loudly, strongly, and Taekwoon noses into his cheek as they both watch. He’s concentrated, gripping the younger’s cock, pumping it until it leaks onto his fingers.

Wonsik whimpers a weak, “Taekwoon,” and it nearly pushes him over the edge. The younger’s nail picks at the hem of Taekwoon’s briefs until they’re down and kicked off. And they’re fully naked together, bare and sweating from the heat each has caused the other. Taekwoon keeps pumping, keeps scooting their bodies closer even more until Wonsik presses their erections together. And Taekwoon laughs shortly at the sight. It’s silly and inefficient, but Wonsik snickers along as well. It eases the tension Taekwoon wasn’t sure was there to begin with and he feels himself relax more.

Wonsik’s wrist moves fast and Taekwoon struggles to keep up. Because his body shudders, his breath hitches, and he tucks his face in the younger’s neck as he tries to conceal his groans. It doesn’t really work though.

He orgasms so hard that he twitches and jolts from his body releasing everything, from radiating signals of scorching pleasure through his every nerve. And he must have stopped for a moment because Wonsik urgently grips his wrist, moving his hand into the up and down motions he had apparently lost. He feels weak, drained, but he flicks his wrist in a quick pace, twisting slightly, and letting his lips linger against Wonsik’s jaw. His groans are loud and rough, louder than anyone Taekwoon’s ever been with before, but he likes it, finds it encouraging listening to his sharp inhales—beautiful even. And he doesn’t stop until the last jerks of Wonsik’s orgasm fizzle off and he lies there still and completely spent, breathing like that’s all he knows how to do anymore.

Their slack bodies pull apart slowly to defuse heat, but Taekwoon’s still burning, still sweating. His breathing is still fast, but not nearly as rough as it was just a minute ago. Wonsik’s staring at him, his body moving quickly, up and down, as his lips remain open. He breaks their contact, letting his eyes linger down the younger’s body. There are a few more tattoos covering his torso than he remembers, but he presses a finger to his chest, finding it firm and full, not feeling bone as easily as he thought he might.

“What are you doing?” He asks, voice struggling and deep, but he finally moves with the question.

“You’ve been eating properly,” Taekwoon says and Wonsik grins, rolling on his back.

“Yeah, I mean—I skip meals sometimes, not intentionally of course, but the kids try to keep me on a schedule.”

Taekwoon smiles and the soft expression on Wonsik’s face leaves his stomach feeling fluttery.

 

He stands in awe as he watches Wonsik change the top sheet of his bed. They had washed up and put clothes back on, but Wonsik still wants to make sure the bed is clean. Taekwoon thinks Hongbin would be proud.

They end up ordering food in since they don’t feel like going back out, and it’s okay because there’s so little to do in Wonsik’s small studio that they end up back in bed an hour later. And they keep kissing one another. Small, short pecks, but a lot of them, and Taekwoon’s not even sure if they have meaning or if they’re just out of instinct forming into a newfound habit. Wonsik’s lips feel good against his, so he sees no reason to stop. Wonsik doesn’t anyway.

“A hawk,” Taekwoon says, running his fingers over a smaller tattoo on Wonsik’s left shoulder blade.

“It’s a raven,” he mumbles into a pillow. “It’s a raven taking off.”

“I see.”

“I got it like a year after you and hyung enlisted,” he sighs thinking about it. “I thought of it as a new beginning, I guess. Kind of dumb now though, right?”

Taekwoon pulls his t-shirt back down and lies beside him again. “Not really.”

“Do you have any hidden ones?” He asks with a light chuckle, already knowing Taekwoon well enough that the answer is still a solid ‘no’. He would ask Taekwoon about getting one multiple times when they were younger.

And it’s all nice. They seem to lose track of time asking one another random questions in between their kisses and subtle touches. Taekwoon finds out all the names of the trainees, their strengths and talents. He learns about Wonsik’s producing partner—Hyunmin—who helps him with the trainees and smokes nearly a pack a day, singlehandedly stinking up Wonsik’s workroom. And Wonsik asks about Eunha, asks about the downfalls and the hardships. Taekwoon responds briefly, thinking that the topic might be best another time. He really doesn’t want to think about it now, but he does make a note to remember this for when Eunha sends another message. Because he’s so happy right now.

“Are you going to stay here tonight? It’s really late,” Wonsik asks even when it comes out sounding more like a request than a question. So they lay in bed again like they have done so for hours already that night. Wonsik has a different scent, but the longer they lie there, the more familiar it becomes—reminiscent and new at the same time. He holds onto Taekwoon’s wrist, running a finger back and forth beneath the give of his bracelet as he does so. They kiss a few more times, mentioning how unbelievable the entire night has been, and shut the lights out.

 

It’s annoying how loud Wonsik’s alarm is in the morning. Taekwoon doesn’t get up, but he rolls away from the noise only to collide with the younger. Wonsik stirs, but the noise doesn’t seem to bother him nearly as much.

“Wonsik,” Taekwoon utters urgently, pulling on his arm to wake him up, to make the unbearable noise stop.

It works. Wonsik’s hand presses down on Taekwoon’s back as he leans over him towards the nightstand where his phone sits. He shuts it off, but Taekwoon can still hear the echo within his ears. Wonsik sinks back down, moving his hand to Taekwoon’s shoulder as he nuzzles his face into his neck. It instantly calms him, making him drowsy and comfortable again, but it only lasts another minute before the warmth of the younger disappears from his side and the mattress shakes as he crawls off the end.

“Where are you going?” Taekwoon asks softly, not wanting to accept this awakening quite yet.

Wonsik crouches down at the side of the bed where Taekwoon is squinting his eyes open. “I have to go to work.”

“Don’t.”

“You can come with me if you want. Or you can stay here and sleep,” he offers two choices that don’t sound great at the moment.

“I don’t have any other clothes,” Taekwoon says and Wonsik scoffs through a smile.

“You can wear mine.”

He sits up, bundling the blankets within his arms as he watches Wonsik rummage through his closet for clothes even though he was never given a definite answer. He pulls out a plain, deep blue sweater that looks as if it would be too big on Wonsik. “This will go with your jeans. It’s really warm—you’ll like it,” he says as if he really knows.

Taekwoon changes while Wonsik disappears into the little side bathroom. He’s not really sure what he’s doing and he’s wondering if he has left Todd Cat enough food to last through the day. Wonsik returns fully dressed with a stupid grin on his face that has Taekwoon looking at him cautiously. “You’re going to see the kids. They’re going to be so happy.” He really can’t say no to that. He can’t even say no when Wonsik adds, “There’s a small café across the street we can get some breakfast and coffee at. And there’s no reason to be worried—the owner knows me. No one is going to come up to us while we walk there.”

That has Taekwoon’s hairs standing up, but he sighs. “You don’t drive?”

“No, hyung. I don’t own a car,” Wonsik says simply and Taekwoon feels himself frowning. “I walk to and from work just about every day and rarely ever get stopped or approached. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

Taekwoon doesn’t need the protection, but he’ll take the support, the relief Wonsik’s trying to instill within him. Maybe one day, he thinks, with Wonsik, he might be able to feel the same.

He pulls his coat over his shoulders as Wonsik picks up his bag from the floor. Wonsik’s smiling at him again, glancing at his watch before opening the door. “Come on, hyung. The kids should be at the studio soon. They really like you… Let’s surprise them and make them happy—at least for a little bit. Hongbin will call at some point. Maybe we can get lunch today.”

And Taekwoon nods, thinking even this is already a new change.


End file.
